Secret Daughter
by DaughteroftheValar1701
Summary: Thranduil has fathered another child by an elleth whose very name is fraught with dark magic: Laergulwen; Song of Sorcery. He is disgusted and horrified with his mistake, and scared of losing Legolas: Can his infant daughter survive after he has disowned her, or will the evil of Mirkwood claim her life?
1. Cast Out

Hello my humans. I've decided to re-post my early chapters, since they're just soooo bad. I'm gonna burn the original, I swear. **TMIFairy** , thank you so much for letting me in on the knowledge that my early writing was shit. I'm not kidding, it really was. Anyway, here's the new and improved first chapter!

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Thranduil, the Ruler of the Mirkwood Realm, was furious and miserable: A dangerous combination to behold. The few serving elves that were in the hall scattered, leaving a beautiful elleth before the king. By her side was an elfling, barely a year old and unsteady on her tiny feet. She clutched her mother's skirt as the king spoke.

"How dare you." His voice was thick with suppressed rage.

"I could ask you the same," the elleth growled.

"Get out of my realm, and take her with you," he spat, rising from his throne. The elleth drew back; the king's rage was worthy of many tales, but she stood her ground.

"So, you deny your child a life, condemning us both to die from the spiders?"

Thranduil faltered for a moment, then stiffened his resolve. "Whatever end you come to, Serpent Tongue, it is of your own making!"

The elleth bristled with indignation. "I am Laergulwen, Song of Sorcery, and I am proud to have ensnared one who is so _mighty_ ," she sneered, mocking the king's fury.

Thranduil's rage broke. He leaned in towards the elleth's face, eyes burning. The elfling whimpered as the king's golden hair swung near her face. "I would be only too glad to kill you myself, temptress, but I shall not. Your blood is not even worthy to be on my hands." Turning back to his throne, he raised a hand, conjuring a guard who took hold of Laergulwen's arms and began to drag her away. She screamed as the elfling was left behind.

"Tirnel! No!" Laergulwen cried, struggling to break free of the guard. Another elf appeared and caught hold of the child.

"Take them both away," Thranduil said quietly, seating himself in his throne. "Put them beyond the walls."

The guards nodded and dragged Laergulwen away, the elfling clinging to the arms of a guard. The last glimpse Thranduil had of his daughter was her golden eyes, so like her mother's, watching his own blue eyes as she was taken away.

Laergulwen fought against the guard's grip as she was dragged along, eyes wide and her body trembling in terror. To go unarmed beyond the gates was suicide. "Thranduil is at times unkind," the guard holding Laergulwen murmured. "I will give you a sword, though I doubt it will be of much help. It is not by my own will that I do this, Laergulwen. Be safe, if such a thing is possible." He shoved a sheathed sword into Laergulwen's hand, then took the elfling from the second guard, who had left so as not to see the elfling's frightened eyes for another moment. "You have named her Tirnel?"

"Yes," Laergulwen said. She was crying softly now. "I can only hope that she lives long enough to see the stars."

The guard nodded. "May the Valar protect you both," he whispered, then closed the gate.

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Well! I didn't end up changing much, but I've done enough to improve it in my mind. Hope this is well received...


	2. The Star-Clearing

Repost of chapter two!

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Deep in the darkness that usually covered Mirkwood, Laergulwen crept through the underbrush. Spiders had been by her now four times, each time saying in their hissing voices that they smelled elven blood. Tirnel had remained quiet, as if she understood the danger that they were in.

The sword in Laergulwen's hand was elven, light and razor-sharp. Its curving blade was inscribed with a name: Variele. It was gleaming slightly in the moonlight that fought its way into the woods. Soon, the elleth and her child stumbled across a clearing. The stars were twinkling down on them, teasing them with their freedom.

"Look, child," Laergulwen said softly. "Those are the stars." Tirnel looked up and gazed at the heavens, stars reflected back in her gold eyes.

Laergulwen barely had time to enjoy the scene before spiders arrived. "No!" she screamed, holding Variele out before her.

Two of the spiders hissed with laughter and the third spoke. "You cannot escape, she-elf. Put down your sword and we may spare the child."

"Never!" Laergulwen snarled, before springing at the speaker. Variele slashed through its head with ease. The other two spiders hissed in fury, shooting out threads to ensnare her. Landing, she spun in time to avoid the attacks, but noticed that Tirnel had now become a spider's target. The elfling gave a wail of terror as a spider approached the tree that she clutched.

Before it could do much more than wrap a hairy foreleg around the bundle of cloak that held the elfling, Laergulwen had hewn off its fur-covered head. The spiders' bodies were still twitching as she left the clearing. Sweeping her daughter up into her arms, she ran as fast as she could, spider blood still dripping from Variele's blade.

An hour passed, in which Laergulwen ran south, stopping occasionally to avoid groups of spiders, and using the stars to navigate as best as she could through the thick branches. She could hear the whispers of spiders, hissing about an elf-warrior who had slain three of their kin in the Star-Clearing, as they called it. They swore vengeance; she had killed one of their leaders.

Hidden in the bushes, Laergulwen smirked. **For a leader, it wasn't too difficult to kill,** she thought amusedly. As she crept out of the underbrush towards a path under a fallen tree, she was spotted. A clever spider had wound a thread too thin to see between two trees, but even being so thin, it was sticky and strong.

Laergulwen tripped over it, alerting several spiders nearby as the trip wire shook the trees it was attached to. Spiders descended from the branches, hissing and growling with glee. Tirnel trembled as her mother held her close, Variele before them.

"What have we here?" A spider hissed. "A little elf far from her cave?"

"Stay back," Laergulwen said, as confidently as she could.

"Oh, and look, boys! She's brought us a morsel for later! How old is your little brat? Seventy? Eighty?"

Laergulwen didn't answer. It was best not to provoke an angry spider.

"Ooh, she don't want to answer you, Mograth!" one of the spiders hissed with laughter.

"Shut it!" Mograth snarled. He crept close the end of Variele, keeping just beyond the tip. "You killed our kin," he snarled.

"I assure you, it was well deserved," Laergulwen snapped back.

Hissing chuckles filled the clearing. "We're gonna kill the both of ya, and feast on yer flesh!" Mograth howled, and leapt at the elves.

He was on top of Laergulwen before she could move. Variele was embedded in his abdomen, and the spider died there, oozing black blood on Laergulwen's dress.

She shoved the body away with a grunt as two more spiders attacked. She knew why they weren't attacking all at once: they wanted to drag it out so they could watch her succumb to exhaustion. She would not give them the satisfaction.

The spiders fell away, hewn through with elvish silver. Tirnel was clinging to her mother's leg, wailing, but Laergulwen knew that she was no warrior, and she knew that she could not win this battle. Still, she fought as bravely as she could. The spiders were shocked to see her still fighting a battle she would lose, but their astonishment didn't keep them back for long.

They attacked, each ready to poison her, and all enjoying the sport. They toyed with her, winding webs around her arms and pulling her off balance, and tried to take Tirnel. But each time they tried, Laergulwen screamed in defiance and fought harder. One of the spiders, frustrated that the elf was proving resilient and mad with hunger, pinned Laergulwen to the ground and jabbed its stinger into her abdomen. The other spiders, realizing that it was time to watch their prey die, pulled back and waited.

Laergulwen pulled Tirnel close. "Harken to me, child." Her blood was mixing with that of the dead spiders, red and black pooling and swirling. She coughed, the poison working fast. "Your father is the Elvenking, and in time, he will find you. For now, I give you Variele. It is my hope that it will protect you. _Novaer_ , _sel nîn_."

The spiders laughed. "Did you think that we would let the little one live?"

"You will!" A new voice echoed through the clearing, and a man dressed in brown rags burst in. He brandished a staff that blasted the spiders back, emitting a bright blue-white light that drove the other spiders into hiding.

"My lady, are you able to stand? Have you been poisoned?" The man knelt by her side, cradling her head in his lap.

"Radagast," Laergulwen smiled weakly. "Save my daughter. She is named Tirnel, secret daughter of the king. Keep her safe, Istar." She pulled her daughter close and kissed her forehead.

Tirnel's tears streamed down her face, but she managed to say, " _Novaer, Naneth_."

Radagast carefully picked up the elfling from the forest floor. She was sobbing, clutching the sword's hilt in her tiny hands. " _Come, little one_. _We must be far away_ _when the spiders return_."

He gently rolled Laergulwen's body into the bushes, then murmured an elvish prayer to send her spirit to Valinor. " _Wait!_ " Tirnel said suddenly. Reaching to her mother's throat, she unclasped a gold chain. The sheath of the sword hung on a black belt around Laergulwen's hips, and Radagast took it as the elfling placed the gold chain around her own throat.

" _Come_." Radagast swept her up and ran to a sled that was pulled by a group of rabbits. " _We are going to Lórien, Tirnel. You will meet Lady_ _Galadriel_."

" _Will you plant a sapling over Naneth_?" Tirnel asked hesitantly.

" _I have with me some almonds and some water._ _Will you do it_?" He held out a small pouch and a waterskin. Tirnel took them and buried the seeds, then poured the water over them. " _Come now, child. We must go_ ," Radagast said, stepping onto his sled. Tirnel followed him, and clung to the wizard's leg. He cracked the reins over the rabbits' heads, and they shot off.

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How about that: two chapters reposted already. I can't wait to see how you like it!


	3. Counsel of the Lady

Repost of chapter three!

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The sun was rising over Lórien as The Lady and her visitors walked through the Gardens.

"It is a delicate matter, my Lady," Radagast sighed. "She knows not of her parentage, or if she does, she will not claim it. The king apparently threw her and her mother out of his halls, where they were beset by the spiders."

"Many brave elves have fallen to the spiders. Do you wish for the elfling to stay here?" Galadriel said, leading the little elf by the hand.

"If only you could take her, my lady," Radagast said quietly. "I fear for her safety in the Greenwood, seeing as the spiders are in an uproar, not to mention the proximity to the king. I fear that even I will not be able to keep all of them at bay for too long."

Galadriel stopped and turned to the wizard. "I believe that you have more strength than you give yourself credit for, Radagast," she said. Tirnel smelled a flower that was growing next to the path, then started as a bee flew past her ear. "She will be safe in your care. But, for an extra precaution, I shall give her a new name."

Radagast looked extremely uncomfortable. "Well, milady, her mother, who was killed by the spiders, named her. I believe we should leave it as such."  
Galadriel considered this, then smiled. "She shall be Hallothneth until she is a fully grown elleth, or until she is ready to know the truth."

 _Hiding Flower._ It was perfect. "Thank you, my lady," Radagast said, bowing. He knelt next to the elfling. "Shall I continue to teach her Sindarin, my lady? To keep her in touch with her elvish roots?"

"Yes, Radagast. But do teach her Westron, just as an alternative."

"Thank you again, my lady."

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Here's chapter three! I'm announcing this little repost project in the next chapter of book two when I FINALLY get there. Ugh.


	4. A Journey to Lothlórien

Repost of chapter four!

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Years later, in Mirkwood

An elleth was strolling through the darkness of the woods, a sword shining in her hand. Spiders clustered in the trees above her, hissing softly and waiting to strike. Before long, one of the braver spiders swooped down and attempted to attack her. Faster than lightning, she swung her sword up and the spider fell, dead.

Others hissed in fury, enraged that their prey was fighting back. They dropped around her, forming an impassable ring. She shrugged, seeming to say, **If I can't walk through, I'll fight through.** Yelling in defiance, she raised her sword again and rushed toward the monsters.

Spiders, being cowards at heart, were unsure about attacking this elf, but decided that they would never hear the end of it if they were taken out by an elleth, of all creatures. They got ready to attack and charged the elf. Laughing in a slightly maniacal way, she slashed out into the ring of spiders. They drew back, hissing, then steeled their nerves and charged again. She continued to fight, slashing and stabbing, until the spiders' fear got the better of them. The surviving arachnids scurried off into the trees, hissing in fear and pain. The elf smiled: Another successful day.

Wiping her sword off in the grass, she turned as she heard footsteps behind her. A man in brown hurried towards her, eyes flashing. "Hallothneth, you could have been killed!" he called angrily. He stopped in front of her and leaned on his gnarled staff. "The attacks are increasing. It's making me worried. I am reluctant to let you out nowadays, especially after dusk."

"I must learn to fight, Radagast. How else will I survive the woods between here and Lórien? Mithrandir only taught me so much, and I need to learn everything that I can!" She grinned, the black blood of the spiders spattered over her clothes.

The wizard grumbled as he turned to leave, "I never should have told you that we were going."

Hallothneth jogged along behind him, sheathing her sword. "We're still going, right?"

"Yes, child, we're still going. We need to bring you to to the Lady, as it was agreed so many years ago. You were so small…" He sighed, then continued speaking. "Lady Galadriel is interested in your future, Hallothneth. She wants to train you, so that you are not as helpless as you look. Only then will you meet your father."

The two of them walked through the woods, Hallothneth looking subdued at the mention of her father. It was evidently a sensitive subject, and Radagast did not push the matter.

They soon arrived at a cottage, shabby and old-looking, but it was extremely comfortable inside. Radagast lit the fire inside, then asked Hallothneth to help him with the candles.

She stuck a twist of bark into the flames."I still don't know how you managed to keep my parents a secret."

Radagast chuckled. "It hasn't been easy. You're a very inquisitive elf."

Lighting the candles, Hallothneth stepped back and sank down into a chair. "Well, go on. Who are my parents? Or were, as I remember my mother's death." Hallothneth now wore the gold chain that had once hung around Laergulwen's neck, and she wound it in her fingers as she spoke.

Radagast sighed in resignation. "I wish it were not my duty to inform you of this. But I have sworn to, and now I must." He took a deep breath. "Your father is Thranduil, King of Mirkwood."

Hallothneth's eyes grew wide in shock. "And my mother?" she asked. "Was she a queen?"

Here Radagast looked uncomfortable, and deliberately did not meet her eyes. After a few moments of tense silence, he spoke. "Your mother was a minstrel in the King's hall, and she was the most beautiful elleth in all of Mirkwood. Her songs were widely heard and loved, so one day, the king called her to him. She went, and seduced the king with her songs. She tricked him into loving her, and he was ensnared. Two years later, when he had nearly forgotten her, she brought you to him. He was furious and scared, and threw the two of you into the forest. He evidently didn't want his son to know that there was another to whom he- Where are you going?"

Hallothneth had stood up, drawing her sword and was heading for the door. "I'm going to run him through."

"No!" Radagast leapt out of his seat and ran to catch ahold of her arm. "Do you know what they'll do to an elleth swearing to kill their king?"

"I don't care," she spat back, fire in her eyes.

"You should! They'll imprison you, throw you out, or just kill you on the spot. Please, Hallothneth, let me take you to Lórien. We will get answers from the Lady. Go pack and prepare for our trip."

"But how do you even know any of this?" Hallothneth said, throwing her hands over her head.

"An elf came to me when you were still very young," Radagast began. Hallothneth sat back in her chair, arms and legs crossed. "He told me his name was Lhathron, and that he had heard a tale that I was raising a child. I told him it was so, and showed him where you were playing outside.

"He looked as though he had seen a ghost. He told me your mother's story, right up to when he gave her Variele. He said that he had never seen Thranduil that angry before, not even when the prince had been attacked and captured by orcs from under the nose of the Noldor of Imladris." Hallothneth uncrossed her arms, face still like stone as she listened.

Radagast sighed. "This must be difficult for you to hear."

"No," Hallothneth snapped. "It is necessary that I hear it, and hear it I shall."

"Fine. Lhathron also told me that Thranduil has never spoken your name, nor made any allusions to you or your mother's existence. He seems to have wiped you from his life, though you will always be his daughter," Radagast said, hurriedly reaching out and taking hold of Hallothneth's hands. She squeezed his fingers, face impassive, then stood and retrieved waterskins to fill at the well.

Radagast cast a worried look through the window, then shook his head. He finished packing his bag as Hallothneth returned with the full skins, then said quietly, "I know you don't need as much sleep as me, but I suggest you do sleep at least for a while." She ignored him and sat in the rafters until sunrise.

In the morning, Radagast woke to see Hallothneth's gold eyes gazing into his own. She was leaning towards him, staring steadily at him. He scrambled back, crying out in shock. She sat back on her heels.

" _We will leave in two hours,"_ Hallothneth said in clear Westron.

"That was very good! Are you practicing for your visit to Lórien?" Radagast said, getting up and beginning to pack.

"Yes, in case we meet any men who are not learned in Sindarin," she commented.

"I feel unsure that you will meet any," he said, chuckling. "Barely any mortal men in the Golden Wood now. The world is darkening, and elves are leaving these shores. Those who remain are becoming watchful and secretive." His face darkened, and he stayed silent for a while.

Hallothneth watched him for a moment, then got up and continued to check the status of packing. "All that's left is the lembas and your clothes. Get them on the sled and we'll be off."

Radagast shook himself out of his dark thoughts and grabbed his bag. "Always on top of things." He strapped the bags down and put out the fire. Hallothenth blew out the candles and followed Radagast out the door.

Turning around, the Brown Wizard gazed at his cottage. "You'll see it again soon, Radagast. I hope I will too," Hallothneth said kindly. Radagast smiled. He cracked the reins over the rabbits' heads and they shot off. They had a long journey ahead of them, and they had to be fast. Darkness was seeping back into the woods.

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And that was chapter four, 2.0! Or, like a million-.0 because of how many times i thought it sucked.


	5. Of Names and Spiders

Repost of chapter five!

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It was nearing sundown on their second day of travel. Hallothneth had gathered some herbs to make a pot of tea, and they ate by a small fire constructed out of twigs and leaves. Radagast had wanted to indulge in more tasty rations, like the pastries that he had brought, but Hallothneth insisted that they should save them for better times. He had wrapped a few in a cloth and brought them anyway, and now ate them as Hallothneth paced around their little camp. They didn't sleep that often, and it had been up to Hallothneth to keep the rabbits going.

They were drawing close to Dol Guldur, and spiders were in sight. They hadn't attacked yet, perhaps frightened of the elf. They had heard of the gold-eyed elven-warrior. Hallothneth was watchful and tense, sword always in her hand. Radagast was handling the rabbits. He steered them through the trees, carefully watching for any spiders.

None came forward until they were almost completely past the old fortress. On their third day of travel, Radagast pushed the rabbits to their limit. "We do not want to get caught near this place. It is evil, and the spiders are growing bolder."

Hallothneth looked at the clustering monsters. "Can't I-"

"No, Hallothneth. You cannot attack unless we are in danger directly. I refuse to allow you to provoke them." Radagast flicked the reins once more, and they were going even faster.

By some cruel twist of fate, another clever spider had woven webs too thin to see. This time, it was a net, strung between two trees, rather than a trip-wire used to catch elf-maids. The rabbits hit it, panicking as they bit their way out of the webs. This delay let the spiders close in, and now Hallothneth and Radagast were surrounded.

The maniacal gleam of battle was back in Hallothneth's eyes. "This won't take long." She ran forward, raising her sword and killing a spider as she crashed into the ring of monsters.

"Tirnel, no!" Radagast yelled, and blasted several spiders back with his staff.

"Tirnel?" Hallothneth said over the din of hissing spiders and battle. "Are you going crazy, mellon nîn?"

Radagast looked shocked at his own lack of concentration, but decided that, on the whole, he would have told her in Lórien anyway. "No! Your mother–" a pulse of magic burst from his staff "–named you as–" the spiders shrieked in pain as the magic hit them "–she died! The Lady renamed you, but told me to tell you your real name and identity when the time came." He mopped his brow as the spiders retreated momentarily, allowing him to chance a glance over to the woven net where his sled had been. Now there was a ragged hole torn by rabbit teeth. "Sled's gone!"

"Great," Tirnel snarled. She swung up onto a spider's back, then hauled Radagast up with her. "You're going to have a lot of explaining to do when we reach Lórien!" Taking hold of the matted fur of the spider, Tirnel tried to turn the beast, shrieking, towards the Golden Wood, but she only succeeded in making it madder. It howled and bucked, but Tirnel kept her feet and began to fight from atop the beast, but it caught on to what she was doing soon. Tirnel was forced to stop fighting as the creature under her began to run through the forest in an attempt to dislodge its passengers.

Tirnel gripped the spider's fur as it ran along, and she managed to struggle to her feet, pulling Radagast up with her. Unfortunately, the same cunning spider had set another trap: It caught Radagast and Tirnel on their torsos and sent them flying off of the spider's back. They hit the ground hard, winded for a few seconds. In those seconds and the ones that followed, a strand of web attached itself to Tirnel's foot and began dragging her backwards. She cried out in shock, attempting to cut the sticky rope, but the spider on the other end reeled her in. She grabbed onto a protruding root, clinging to it and gasping in pain as her ankle gave an ominous crack.

Radagast staggered to his feet and lit a fire at the end of his staff. He burned through the web and pulled her to her feet. "Run!" he cried. They both staggered away, but a spider dropped down in front of them, sting dripping with poison. Radagast shoved Tirnel to the side before it could sting her, and she watched in horror as it pierced the wizard instead. His face turned a delicate shade of green as he fell, and Tirnel lunged forward to catch him as he sank to the ground. Kneeling beside him, she tried to ignore the sticky black poison in his wound, no longer heeding the beasts around her.

The spiders were laughing now, forming a ragged ring around the two fallen figures. "Time to eat, my friends!" one snarled, leaping towards Tirnel.

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Ooh, cliffie! If you read this story already, you know what's going to happen, silly! For the newbies, ooooh, what's gonna happen?


	6. The Galadhrim to the Rescue

Repost of chapter six!

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The spider hadn't gotten far when an arrow pierced his flesh. He fell, screaming, to the ground just beside Radagast. Tirnel turned and saw a group of people, no, _elves,_ that attacked the other spiders as they approached.

One of the elves seemed to be the leader, calling orders as he killed the spiders. "Losdir! Attack those! Angrenor, follow me!" He was fighting harder than the others, evidently feeling responsible for their lives. He noticed Tirnel sheltering Radagast, eyes wide with terror and relief. "My lady! Escape! We will buy you time!" He yelled, continuing to fight.

Tirnel shook her head, determined not to leave Radagast behind, then carried her friend to the edge of the clearing. Drawing Variele, she began to fight with the elves. Some of the elves wore expressions of shock as Tirnel spun through the group of spiders, cutting down any in her path. They had thought that she would have run, rather than join the fight herself.

Quite soon, the spiders had either been killed or run off. The leader of the elves turned to Tirnel, who was wiping her blade on her cloak. "You fight like a true warrior, my lady. I am Haldir, Marchwarden of Lórien. Who are you, my lady, and is Radagast safe?"

Tirnel inclined her head, then spoke. "I am Hallothneth, and Radagast was stricken by the beasts. I fear that, even now, he is succumbing to their poison."

Haldir nodded. "Losdir!" A dark-haired elf ran forward. "Please see to Radagast. You have your herbs?" The elf nodded, then knelt next to Radagast.

Another elf came forth and whispered into Haldir's ear. Haldir nodded, then whispered back. Tirnel turned to Radagast. The wizard was speaking with the healer, gesturing towards a long stick on the other side of the clearing. Tirnel recognised it, and and brought Radagast the staff. "Thank you, my friend," Radagast wheezed. He took it and passed the tip over his wounds.

The healer, Losdir, watched as Radagast sealed his wounds. "Ah, Radagast, the poison is still inside you. Please let me see to that."

Radagast nodded. "Do what you must. T- Hallothneth, rest and see to your own wounds."

"I sustained none, Radagast, beyond a slightly pained ankle," Tirnel chided.

"Allow me to be the judge of that, my lady," Losdir said, stepping over to her and helping her sit. He was tending to her foot as Haldir approached, followed by the elf with whom he had been speaking.

"Radagast, Hallothneth, can you be ready to leave in a few minutes? Nemirdir has told me that more spiders approach."

Losdir glanced up to his Captain. "Perhaps a bit longer, Haldir," he said, finishing his check on Tirnel's ankle and moving to Radagast. "The Brown Wizard is still affected by the poison."

Haldir's gaze swept the clearing. "Perhaps we could linger for a while longer. Nemirdir, how far away are the spiders? And in what number? Could we hope to fight while protecting the injured?"

"They are some distance away, but are closing fast." The copper-haired elf closed his eyes and listened for a moment. "They will take some time to reach us.

"I am unsure of the number, but it is best not to take chances. I suggest we get the injured on horses and leave, now. None of us have died, and we may be able to outrun the spiders if we start in the next…" he thought for a moment. "...two minutes."

"Thank you, Nemirdir." Haldir turned to Losdir and Radagast. Tirnel was testing her ankle, making sure she could stand properly. "You have heard what has been said, Radagast. Can he be moved, Losdir?"

Losdir sighed. "I suppose, but I would not be held responsible for any further injuries, Haldir!"

Haldir chuckled. "My lady, can you walk? Or would you prefer to be on horseback?"

Tirnel walked over to him, favoring her ankle but making no expression. "I will walk, Marchwarden. I feel as though your healer will not let me-"

"And you are right!" Losdir had overheard and was striding towards the pair. "You could injure your ankle further, my lady, and I already have my hands full with Radagast!" He frowned at Tirnel, who looked as though she had been caught trying to get away with something. "Nemirdir! Take this elleth with you, and bind her if you must, to keep her from walking!" Losdir beckoned to the copper-haired tracker, who looked up as though he had been poked in the back of the neck.

Losdir walked back to where Radagast was lying, giving Nemirdir a little shove towards Tirnel. "I will not bind you, my lady," Nemirdir started, hesitant. "for I know that you could kill me before I began."

Tirnel laughed. "Perhaps not kill you, my lord. Maybe just maim or severely injure."

Nemirdir laughed as well. "Please call me Nemirdir. Or I shall have to start calling you Lady Hallothneth."

They both chuckled. Nemirdir's bay horse was taller than Tirnel had had experience with, but Nemirdir helped her onto the steed's back. He clambered up behind her, rather ungracefully, but managed not to fall. "I'm not entirely comfortable with horses myself," he said quietly. Tirnel laughed and took the reins.

"I feel the same," she said, allowing Nemirdir to run the reins around her so that he could steer.

"The venom is still active, so try not to move too much," Losdir was saying to Radagast. The wizard had recovered a little strength, and was now riding Losdir's horse without assistance.

Haldir rode at the head of the group, grey eyes sweeping the forest. He was worried about the attacks that were increasing, and he, along with the Galadhrim, had been surveying the borders of Mirkwood. Nemirdir had warned them of the spiders, so they were not taken by surprise as they neared the fortress. Nemirdir had also heard the sound of a battle, and had led the others to Radagast and Hallothneth's aid.

The elleth had shocked him. She did not at first seem the type to fight, as she was very fair. Haldir had already seen more than one elf gazing at her hair, which was a strange mix of gold and deep brown. Her eyes, which were as gold as the hair of Galadriel, flashed when she fought. He shook his head. Things as fair as she should not be forced to endure darkness and battle. Haldir turned to his healer as Losdir walked beside his horse. "Is Radagast any better?"

"No, Captain. I don't believe that he will survive, if he does not see the Lady soon."

Haldir gritted his teeth and faced front again. They were only a day out from Lórien; surely the wizard could last that long.

Nemirdir rode up beside his captain. "Haldir, the spiders have found their fallen brethren, and seem to be swearing revenge." He rolled his eyes. "They are not far behind, so we will have to hurry."

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Good thing that guy, what's-his-name, Nemirdir was there. He's a great tracker, huh?


	7. Arrival in the Golden Wood

Repost of chapter seven! Here's a quick language guide to help you out from here until like chapter 20. **Thinking,** _Common Tongue,_ Sindarin.

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Tirnel looked around in awe as the Galadhrim entered their homeland. It was the most beautiful place she had ever seen, and she had lived in a beautiful (if not dark and depressing) forest all her life. The mellyrn stretched overhead, golden leaves blocking the sky that was so far away. She barely noticed as the Galadhrim, who were all happy to have returned, began splitting off of the main group. The remaining elves soon reached Caras Galadhon, City of Light and heart of elvendom on Middle-Earth.

Radagast had been feeling more and more sickly since crossing the borders, but now he started coughing, unable to hide it any longer, inadvertently alerting the others to his condition. As Tirnel glanced over, a little blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. She gasped in horror. "Losdir! Radagast, are you alright?"

The healer wheeled around as best as he could and saw the blood on Radagast's face. "Haldir, I told you this would happen! Help me get him to the Lady, now!"

Haldir closed his eyes and turned his face to the treetops. A moment later, he said, "She knows and is ready. Hurry, Losdir, or we'll be too late. Nemirdir, take Hallothneth to the Gardens and keep her there by any means you must use!"

He wheeled his horse around and galloped off, Losdir right behind him. Tirnel turned to Nemirdir, and he was horrified to see the fire in her gold eyes. "Don't even think about it, Nemirdir. I will never forget if you follow Haldir's order."

Pale and shaking, Nemirdir directed his horse towards the Gardens, one arm looped around Tirnel's torso and pinning her arms. She fought as hard as she could, but Nemirdir was stronger. He dismounted as they reached the Gardens, then shifted his hold to Tirnel's arms.

"I'm sorry, Hallothneth," Nemirdir grunted, dragging Tirnel into the Gardens. "Please believe me. But I do not want to go against the will of my Captain." Tirnel scoffed, then broke Nemirdir's hold on her arms. He tackled her to the ground seeming unwilling to really hurt her, but determined not to disobey Haldir.

Tirnel made no reply, simply trying again to throw Nemirdir off. He did not move, so Tirnel sighed angrily and gave up. Looking around from her vantage point on the ground, a dim memory of the flowers and a bee stirred vaguely in her mind. She closed her eyes and thought, and soon a voice she knew well floated into her mind, speaking in Westron: " _Shall I continue to teach her Sindarin, my Lady?"_ It was Radagast. Another voice, one that was deep and calming as the wind through the trees. " _Yes, Radagast. But do teach her Westron, just as an alternative."_ That must be the voice of Lady Galadriel. Tirnel nearly cried out in shock as the voice spoke again in her mind, saying words that had surely not been memory.

" **Welcome, Stargazer."**

Tirnel turned her head and saw a beautiful elf walking towards scrambled to his feet, bowing hastily. "My lady! I apologize; I was only trying to follow Haldir's orders and-," Galadriel raised a hand, stopping Nemirdir's frantic explanation. He gulped, nodded as if in response to new orders, and left the Gardens as quickly as he dared.

Tirnel got to her feet, brushing off her tunic, and bowed. " **My Lady Galadriel. I apologize for my less-than-formal appearance. Is Radagast alive?"**

" **Yes, he lives. Tell me, was Nemirdir really following orders?"** Galadriel's expression was a mix of laughter and sympathy.

" **Yes, he was acting on Haldir's orders and as a way of protecting himself, for I was about to knock him out for access to the Healing Wards."**

Galadriel smiled, then helped Tirnel pick all the leaves out of her hair. "That's better. **We have much to discuss, daughter of the King. I feared that you would act rashly when you learned the story of your parentage."**

" **I did try to leave for the palace to run the King through** ," Tirnel thought with sheepish smile. Galadriel laughed lightly.

" **I suppose Radagast managed to talk you out of it?"**

" **Barely."**

Galadriel laughed again, and motioned for Tirnel to join her. They walked around the Gardens, the few elves that were there bowing to Lady Galadriel as they passed. They spoke about Radagast, and Galadriel told Tirnel that he was resting and was to be left alone. Tirnel agreed, and declined attention, saying that her wounds were negligible.

After a while, the subject of Tirnel's past rose again. "I suppose you wonder why you were renamed Hallothneth?" Galadriel asked, nodding to an elf who bowed at their approach.

"I suppose you were trying to keep me hidden? Hence the name Hiding Flower?" Tirnel responded.

"Clever. That's true, and it was your mother who named you Tirnel." Tirnel winced slightly at the mention of her mother. "You do not like to hear of her?"

Tirnel sighed, sitting on a bench by the side of the path. Galadriel sat beside her and waited for the younger elf to speak. "It is complicated. I know she must have loved me very much, to have given her life to save mine, but I cannot suppress a feeling of hate for her previous actions. Why in the world would she-" Tirnel stopped, then resumed again in her mind. " **Why would she think that my father would accept her? She had as much chance of getting recognition as a second wife as I do of being recognized as a second child. She must have you dark magic. There is no other way that I could have been born."**

Lady Galadriel rose from the bench and shook her head. She held a hand out to Tirnel, who stood as well. "Dark magic or not, your mother has given you this chance to live. Take it. I suggest you stay here, and perhaps join the Galadhrim?"

Tirnel looked shocked, but nodded firmly. "Yes, my Lady. I will be happy to protect my new home."

"Good. I will lead you to your accommodations, and you will be treated as my guest. I will address you as Hallothneth, as will everyone else. It is your choice to reveal your true name, but I suggest you keep it close. Perhaps only very close friends, or," Galadriel smiled slightly, "family."

A confused look spread over Tirnel's face. "I have no family, beyond, well, my father. And he knows me already."

"Ah, but are you your father's only child?" Galadriel's smile widened as Tirnel realized what she meant.

"I-I have-I have a brother?" Tirnel started to pace, walking from the bench to the edge of the path. "I suppose I do. Woodland prince, and all. **But I, of course, have no royal standing, being the illegitimate daughter of the King."**

Galadriel heard this, but ignored it. "Come with me, I'm just going to check on Radagast." Tirnel followed her to the Healing Wards, staying silent and worried.

Once inside, she rushed to the only occupied bed. Radagast was unconscious, but he wasn't bleeding anymore, and seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Losdir was fussily arranging the herbs and bottles by Radagast's bedside, but Haldir was already gone.

"Radagast!" Tirnel knelt by the wizard's side. He woke, and saw his old friend at his side. "Are you well?"

"As well as can be expected, after the poisoning and excessive mothering by Losdir," Radagast said, taking Tirnel's hand in his own. Tirnel laughed for the first time since meeting the elves. "What about your own injuries, Hallothneth? Have you been seen to?"

Tirnel scoffed. "Radagast, soon after you were whisked away, I was tackled to the ground like an unruly bear. I had no chance to do anything, but my injuries are negligible. Do not worry yourself over them."

Radagast looked shocked. "Tackled! I heard Haldir command that you were to be kept from following us, but I had no idea that would be done!" He laughed, finding the mental image of his friend as a bear quite humorous.

Tirnel smiled begrudgingly, then stood. "Radagast, mellon nîn, I have to go now. I'm joining the Galadhrim and staying here, on the advice of the Lady. I hope you get well soon. I will visit you when I'm not defending my new home."

Galadriel stepped forwards from where she had been having a conversation with Losdir. "Hallothneth, it is time." Tirnel nodded, and squeezed Radagast's hand before stepping back.

"Safe journey, mellon nîn."

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Oh man, if you were here for the original post of this chapter, you remember how it came out in HTML format the first time I posted it. Nightmare. Here it is, all fixed up and shiny, with a built in language guide!


	8. Training for an Elleth

Repost of chapter eight!

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Radagast smiled sadly and watched as Haldir entered the room. He was holding his sword and looked ready to start a duel. Tirnel turned and saw the Marchwarden. "Ready to begin your training, Hallothneth?"

Tirnel unsheathed her sword. "Yes, Marchwarden. And I hope I have what it takes to stand up to you in a duel."

Haldir smiled, then led the younger elf to a training field by the Healing Wards. "Now, you have lived your entire life fighting spiders. Fighting orcs, however, is quite different. They will have shields, and swords as well, unlike your spiders. They are nearly as big as some spiders though, and tend to hate light just as much. I doubt that this information will be of much help, but one can never tell.

"I'm going to be teaching you a variety of ways to use your sword, and also some hand to hand combat. This can be helpful in situations where your weapons have been taken or lost. I will train you with knives if you wish, and perhaps the bow also. Which do you prefer to use?"

"I prefer my sword, hir-nîn, but I will be glad to learn more about defense," Tirnel said, bowing her head.

"Good. I will find you a bow, and perhaps some knives, but I think we'll stick to the bow for today." Haldir walked off towards a small hut at the end of the fields, then returned with a longbow, carved intricately with Elvish runes. "This will be your bow. Provided that you don't break them, you can practice with my arrows." He slung a quiver off his back, and Tirnel saw that it was full of ash-wood arrows with white feathers.

The end of the field was about ten yards away, and three fat targets sat there. An elf was calling to his friend, wrenching an arrow out from the back of the target. The friend was howling with laughter at his own mistake, and had dropped his weapon to roll on the grass.

Haldir spoke to them quietly while Tirnel tested the bow's strength. She frowned slightly. "Is anything amiss, Hallothneth?" Haldir asked, returning to her side.

"Oh, it's nothing. It's just, I've never used a bow before."

Haldir's eyes widened slightly, but he showed no other signs of shock. "This is a good time to start, then! I can see if you are able to learn quickly, though the best bowman I know lives not here, and I cannot expect him to visit soon. His name is Legolas."

Tirnel plucked the bowstring and laughed gaily, hiding well the surge of shock that filled her mind. "Is this ellon Legolas any good at passing along his skills, or will I be forced to learn from a Marchwarden?"

Haldir shook his head and laughed too. "I do not believe that you will meet him, but perhaps you could learn a little from him if you do, my arrogant friend. It does not do for a simple elf like you or I to belittle a prince."

"Like you or I, he says. You are the Marchwarden, hir-nîn. I am beneath you and the prince, so if I were to belittle either of you, things would not end well for me." Tirnel tossed her hair behind her shoulders and brought the bow, arrow already on the string, to half-draw.

Haldir watched her shoot, noting her form. He was a little shocked by her skill, though she claimed to have never shot before. Her arms had not wavered too much under the strain, nor had she overdrawn, which was common on the first shot. The arrow, admittedly, had missed badly and flown awkwardly into the edge of the target, but she seemed cheered by the results.

Haldir began to snicker. He snatched the bow from her hands, spun around her back while taking an arrow from the quiver, and shot at the target before he had ceased to move. The arrow, watched by both of them, hit the center ring of the target and stuck there, quivering.

Tirnel's mouth dropped open, and she turned to gape at the grinning Marchwarden. He laughed aloud at the look on her face. "Isn't it so good that you'll be learning from me, Hallothneth?" She grinned sheepishly, taking the bow from his hands and slinging it over her back, then walking to the target. She took her arrow and replaced it in her quiver, then wrenched his out with a grunt.

When she returned to Haldir, Tirnel found that he had removed all of his weapons and piled them neatly at the base of a tree. He indicated that she should do the same, then waited as she did.

"Remember I told you I would be teaching you how to battle hand-to-hand?" Haldir asked.

Tirnel nodded, then yelped as her feet were swept out from under her. She landed with a groan on the springy grass, looking up to se Haldir smirking. "Was that really necessary?" she muttered, getting to her feet.

Before she knew it, Haldir was behind her, pinning her arms together. "Yes. I had to show you how easily you can be defeated if you're not ready." He released her, then went back to stand before her. "I will teach you to be ready."

He lunged again, and Tirnel scrambled out of the way. She grinned, but her expression turned to horror as Haldir plowed her over again. "I think I'm getting the hang of it," she wheezed.

"I can assure you, you're not," Haldir said, standing again. "Come on. Get up, and have a go at me."

"What?"

"I'm giving you a chance to attack me. Take it; I can tell with certainty that this will never happen again." Haldir threw up his arms, inviting Tirnel to charge.

Tirnel glanced at him warily, then kicked at the back of his knees. They buckled, but Haldir dropped into a crouch. Tirnel barreled into him with her shoulder, sending them both into the ground. She found herself under him somehow, and he was grinning.

"I would tell you that perhaps you'll be more successful next time," he said, "but that will never happen. The lady told me to send you to the Gardens after we were done, so off you go."

Stretching a tweaked arm, Tirnel strode back to the Gardens in search for Lady Galadriel. Once reaching the gates, she stopped an elf who was passing.

"Is the Lady still in the Gardens?"

"No. She has retreated to her chambers, but would you be Hallothneth?"

"Yes, I am. Were you assigned to find me?"

"Yes. I will take you to your flet to change, as you are covered in dirt and bruises."

Tirnel agreed, and followed the elf. "May I ask your name, my lady? I would like to know the name of my saviour," she asked.

"My name? Iowen. I do not believe I merit a my lady, but I take them where I can get them. I will bring you a dress once you have bathed. Do you have a preference of color?"

"Maybe blue. Do you have a shade that would pair well with my hair and eyes?"

Iowen cast an appraising look up and down the younger elf. "There is a nice dark blue one that I just finished hemming; I will bring it to you, but now I daresay you wish to change and bathe."

The two of them walked up a staircase that wound around a mallorn tree. Along the way, they passed other paths branching out from their own, rope bridges connecting the branches around them. At last they reach a flet, near the top of the tree, and Iowen opened the door.

Tirnel entered, smiling, and wandered off through the few rooms. "Thank you, Iowen! I'll be very happy here. Now you said something about a bath…?"

Iowen opened a door on the far wall and showed Tirnel a bathtub full of water, steaming gently. Tirnel moaned in anticipation, and kicked off her boots. Iowen closed the door and left the flet, then made her way to her own flet.

The water was perfect. Tirnel stretched out and closed her eyes, letting her hair soak. She stayed there for so long that the water began to cool. Sitting up, she looked around and discovered a cloth evidently meant for washing. She took it and scrubbed the dirt from her face and arms, then rinsed her hair again. There was a large cloth which sat on the edge of the chair next to her, so Tirnel wrapped herself up in it.

The bed was softer than her own back in Mirkwood, and she reveled in the knowledge that she would sleep well tonight. Iowen returned as Tirnel was gazing through the window, cloth still wrapped around her.

"Your dress, my lady. It's the one I told you about, and it's stitched with gold, which I hadn't remembered. But that will match your eyes, and the chain you wear at your throat." Tirnel turned around, then smiled and sat on the bed.

"Thank you, Iowen. Do you perhaps know of some undergarments that I could obtain?"

Iowen nodded, then produced a small stack of folded clothes. "I thought perhaps you would like to change, so I brought a few pairs." She set them in the wardrobe that stood against one wall, then produced the dress with a flourish.

"Oh…" Tirnel slid off the bed and walked over, one hand outstretched, the other clutching her towel. "It's simply beautiful, Iowen. I must pay you back somehow."

Iowen laughed. "You don't have to pay me. This is old, passed down through the family and restitched many times, and I don't want money for it. I said she would give it to the elleth that it fit best, and I can tell that you are her."

Tirnel nodded, eyes still fixed on the dress. Iowen pulled a set of undergarments from the wardrobe, and this seemed to snap Tirnel out of a daze.

"Thank you, mellon nîn. How can I ever repay you for your kindness?" She picked up the undergarments, sending a subtle message of _Please leave now_ to Iowen, who understood.

"There is no need for repayment, as you are helping to keep this land safe from the evil beyond our borders. The Galadhrim are very brave, and the greatest life is one laid down for another," Iowen replied, bowing slightly and backing towards the door.

"Let's hope it won't come to that," Tirnel said. They both laughed, and Iowen departed, closing the door behind her.

Tirnel turned to the clothes and dressed, pulling the blue dress over her head. It settled with the neckline resting slightly off her shoulders, revealing her collarbones in a most graceful way. The hem swept the wooden floor, and Tirnel discovered a pair of light slippers on her bed, left there by Iowen.

Slipping them on, she walked around the room. They were comfortable and cool, and fit fairly well. Tirnel picked up her old clothes. They were dusty and had some sap and spider blood on them, but they were otherwise fine. Walking to her still-full tub, she dunked the tunic in the water. The spider blood came out easily enough, but the sap was a battle she was losing badly. It was sticky and stuck, soaked into the threads and sticking to her hands.

Iowen returned to find Tirnel stringing the clothes up above the tub. "Oh, my lady! I would have found someone to do that for you. I will take care of it, and the Lady has requested your presence."

Tirnel smiled sheepishly, then inclined her head to Iowen. "I am used to doing things for myself, but I thank you for telling me this, Iowen. I will find some way of repaying you for your kindness," Tirnel said before departing.

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Man, I am so tired. Happy International Women's Day, and that goes for all women: cis or trans, WOC or white. I love you all, everywhere, and keep fighting!


	9. Telepathy and Sympathy

Repost of chapter nine!

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The air was cool and clear as Tirnel descended the long stairs. She shivered slightly. **I wish I had brought my cloak** , she thought. The Gardens were not far off, but the wind picked up as Tirnel quickened her pace.

"Are you in need of some assistance, my lady?" A familiar voice called from behind her, and Tirnel turned to see Nemirdir walking up to her.

She hid a smile, and instead twisted her face into a look of mingled weariness and pain. "Why, my tormenter. What other disgrace can you throw at me?"

Nemirdir's face fell. His eyes, which she noticed were pale blue, darkened. "My lady, I sincerely apologise for my disrespect towards you. I was simply following orders. I myself had no wish to harm you." He hid one arm behind his back as he spoke, but Tirnel saw.

"What has happened to your wrist, hir-nîn? Is it paining you?"

"Oh, no. I merely twisted it while sparring with a worthy opponent, and Losdir demanded I have it bandaged." He tucked it further behind his back.

Tirnel stopped. Seeing an opportunity, she clutched her arms and shivered.

"Oh, does it always get this cold in Lothlórien?" she asked.

Nemirdir, not one to seem ungentlemanly, immediately unfastened the grey cloak from around his shoulders and draped it around Tirnel. "It is rare that the temperature drops so low, but a few days out of the year can be like that."

Tirnel grabbed Nemirdir's wrist and pulled it towards her. A bandage wound around it, and he winced as she touched it gently. "Oh…" Tirnel released his wrist as her hand went to her mouth. "Was that me?"

Nemirdir shook his head. "No, my lady. It was my other wrist that you twisted, and I understand your reason for wishing to escape me."

"I know it was that one! Nemirdir, I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?" Tirnel cried.

"That depends. Can you forgive me, as well? I disrespected a lady, and that is a high crime." Nemirdir took Tirnel's hand in his uninjured one and kissed it gently.

Tirnel looked taken aback, but pleased nonetheless. "I was never really mad at you. It was a joke, but if I have hurt you…"

"I was never mad at you either, and it was a small pain. How could one hold a grudge against one so fair?" Nemirdir asked.

Tirnel blushed deep scarlet, then gasped. "I was to meet the Lady! She was waiting for me! What am I to do?" She caught up her skirts and hurried towards the Gardens.

Nemirdir followed her, saying "I'll back up your story. She is forgiving."

Tirnel shook her head frantically and went even faster, arriving in the Gardens at a dead sprint. Bursting through the gates, she skidded to a halt before entering Galadriel's private section of the Gardens.

Tirnel straightened her hair and dress, then passed through the gate. Nemirdir followed her, then noticed that his companion was trembling. He reached over and took her hand. Tirnel looked into his eyes, silently thanking him. He smiled and faced the Lady who had just appeared. Tirnel stepped forward, dropping Nemirdir's hand and bowing her head.

"I am sorry to have kept you waiting, my lady. The fault was my own, though Nemirdir would tell you different," she said.

Galadriel smiled. She did not seem angry or even annoyed. " **I accept your apology, mellon-nîn. Nemirdir's cloak is keeping you warm, I trust?"**

Tirnel blushed again, then gave the thick cloak back to its owner. Nemirdir fastened it back around his neck, then bowed to the Lady and departed.

" **You wanted to see me, my Lady?"** Tirnel asked. She was still a little short of breath, both because of her brisk sprint and from the memory of Nemirdir's lips on her hand and his cloak around her shoulders.

" **Yes. I wanted to speak to you about Thranduil. He came to me three years ago, seeking counsel on a dream. He recounted a chilling vision of an elleth who matches your description calling to the winds, saying that she was waiting for recognition and love. She told him, in this dream, that she wanted to be a daughter, not for the sake of position, but for the sake of having a family.**

" **He said that she came to him three nights in a row, and on the fourth night, she raised a sword, saying that she would survive, even without any family. He said it pained him to see her distress. He tried to call out, to ask her name, but he awoke. He wants to know you."** Galadriel stepped back, letting this sink in.

Tirnel paced back and forth, clearly rattled. " **It was a vision, nothing more than that. He could not have known I spoke those words."**

Galadriel watched sadly as Tirnel paced faster and faster. She finally stepped forward and took Tirnel's shoulders in her hands. " **It is possible. I'm not suggesting that he can hear your thoughts. Perhaps contact can only be established in dreams, or when of you is asleep and the other's mind is exceptionally calm. The fact that this has happened four times...that is peculiar. Perhaps there is a slight telepathic ability, diminished through your different parentage. Thranduil and Legolas will be able to sense very strong emotions from you, and perhaps you can sense theirs, but I doubt that any real communication, like this, will be possible. It is something I have never encountered before."**

Tirnel sat on the grass, head in her hands. Her hair was still damp from the the bath, and it stirred feebly in the wind. Galadriel sat down next to her and placed a hand on the younger elf's back. Tirnel sighed and raised her head. Her eyes, which Galadriel noticed were still that strange gold color, were filled with tears. "I feel so much," Tirnel whispered. She swiped at her eyes with the long sleeve of her dress.

"That, at least, is not uncommon. I believe that you need a little time to think and to rest. You only arrived this morning, and already you have joined the Galadhrim, been tackled twice, and captured the attentions of one of my elves. I insist that you rest, child. I cannot have you protecting the Wood while only half-awake, so you will see Haldir again in the morning," Galadriel said, helping Tirnel to her feet.

The two of them walked out through the gate, heading to the Main Gates of the Gardens, but they instead came upon an elf wearing the traditional outfit of the Galadhrim. She bowed at the Lady's approach, and nodded to Tirnel, who remembered her from when the spiders attacked.

"My lady, I am Uirwen, lieutenant to Haldir. I bring news from the Marchwarden: He has sent word that he is off on patrol again, and will not return for a week. I am to train the new recruit in the intervening time." Uirwen's eyes flicked to Tirnel, then back to the Lady.

"Good. I will leave her to you, and I hope you can handle her. She is from wild kin." Galadriel chuckled as she turned away.

Uirwen and Tirnel looked at each other, each sizing the other up. Uirwen looked carefully at the elf before her. Barely an elf, still mostly an elfling, really. She was a few inches shorter than Uirwen, possessing a slighter figure and more narrow face.

"So, little elfling, what is your name? And don't you think that you're a little young to be fighting for the land?" Uirwen said, gesturing for Tirnel to follow her out of the Gardens.

Tirnel briefly pondered how to answer, but finally said "I am called Hallothneth. I want to keep my new home safe. And, besides, I wouldn't be of much use anywhere else."

"But certainly your parents are against your joining us?" Uirwen asked. She had herself almost died on their last patrol, having been pinned against a tree by a spider without her sword, and was shocked to see one so young willing to risk her life.

Tirnel grew quiet, and she turned her head as she answered. "My parents are dead. Radagast raised me, and now he has left me to live here in Lothlórien." That seemed to be the best answer, with only a half-truth concealed in it.

Horrified by her mistake, Uirwen placed an arm around Tirnel's shoulders. "I am sorry, Hallothneth. I did not mean to make light of your parents' death, I did not know."

"It's quite alright. You could not have known, and I know you meant no harm by it. So, you are to train me until Haldir returns?" Tirnel asked, changing the subject before more questions could be asked.

Uirwen nodded. "Is it true that you attacked Haldir?"

"He told me to! We were practicing hand-to-hand combat, and he told me to charge him! He immediately gained the upper hand, though. That was only this morning?" Tirnel shook her head in wonderment. It felt like she had been in Lórien for days.

Uirwen laughed. "The hours can sometimes feel like days here, or they can disappear faster than an arrow shot towards a foe. But now, you will sleep, and on the morrow, we shall evaluate your skills." Tirnel nodded. The weight of the day was only now falling upon her, and she stumbled slightly as Uirwen led the way out of the Gardens.

Ten minutes later, Tirnel was ready to collapse. The stairs seemed endless, and it was all she could do to not fall the hundreds of feet to the ground. Uirwen looked back once they neared the top and saw that Tirnel was a dozen steps below her, having put her head down and almost fallen asleep on the stairs.

Uirwen crouched next to the younger elf. She had to force down laughter at the sight of Tirnel beginning to sleep on the stairs, eyes already glazing over. "Hey, Hallothneth! You can't sleep here, mellon nîn. We're almost to the top, now you just have to remember which one is yours."

Tirnel raised her head, eyes gradually clearing. "Iowen. There." This speech was clearly too much, and her head dropped again. Uirwen stood as another elf approached, a handmaiden who looked shocked to find an elleth asleep on the stairs.

"Iowen?" Uirwen asked. The handmaiden nodded. "Hallothneth needs to get back to her room, can you direct us to it?" Uirwen asked.

Iowen nodded. "I was going there myself: You have already passed it. I will bring you there, for it looks as though the new recruit needs to rest!"

"Indeed she does. She has had a long day, and now a long sleep will do her immense good." Uirwen scooped up Tirnel in her arms, not shocked to find that the elf was light, even by elven standards.

Iowen led the way back down the stairs for a ways, then turning onto a rope bridge to a branch. Uirwen followed, hefting Tirnel into a more comfortable position around her shoulders.

Once the three of them reached the door, Iowen opened it and showed Uirwen to Tirnel's bed, where Uirwen placed the unconscious new recruit. Gold eyes stared up at the ceiling, in the traditional elven sleeping pattern. Both of the others left the young one to sleep, then went their separate ways.

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Again, happy women's day!


	10. Cold Water and Colder Foes

Repost of chapter ten!

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At dawn the next morning, Tirnel woke to a cacophony of birdsong. She felt as refreshed as if she had slept for a week, and she hoped that all her nights could be this restful. Her bed in Mirkwood was soft, but she had long since outgrown it, and seeing as she barely slept anyway, she had seen no need to replace it.

Getting out of bed was difficult, for it was the perfect temperature and Tirnel had barely any desire to leave it. But before she could shake herself into action, a knock sounded at her door.

"Come in," she managed, sitting up and trying to fix her hair.

Iowen opened the door, bearing a stack of clothes like the day before. "Hello, my lady! Uirwen will meet you after breakfast to train, so I brought you a spare tunic and some breeches. Your boots were mended, and I'll show you where to eat after you are clean and dressed."

Tirnel sighed. "Can Uirwen be stalled? These blankets have accepted me as one of them. If I leave, I'll lose their trust." Iowen shook her head and entered the bathroom. Tirnel heard running water and stood, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.

Iowen had filled the tub and set the new clothes on a chair, and was setting out a new towel as Tirnel came in. "I'll meet you out on the stairs in ten minutes," she said as she left.

Tirnel nodded. Her head was still fuzzy from sleep, but she had the wherewithal to remove her dress and undergarments before falling into the water. She woke up immediately, though, as she realized that the water was freezing cold.

Iowen, standing just outside the door, started and giggled as Tirnel's cry of shock reached her ears. She quickly left the flet and stood on the stairs, waiting for Tirnel to finish.

Tirnel had learned to swear when Radagast was dealing with a sick doe. He had cursed nearly constantly through the entire healing process. She had continued to listen for these words that slipped into his speech, like the time Sebastian the hedgehog was ill. He had sworn too, as spiders covered the walls: the same massive spiders that had killed Laergulwen.

Now Tirnel was cursing under her breath as she washed with the frigid water. "Damn you, Iowen," she hissed. Washing her hair was the hardest, as it stayed freezing cold on her back. She finished as fast as possible, then climbed out of the tub. Wrapping herself in her towel, she squeezed the excess water from her hair and reached for her clothes.

The tunic was grey, and Tirnel, remembering Nemirdir's cloak, noticed that it was the same colour. It was light and comfortable, and the breeches, being a fawn-brown, were well-fit when laced up. Her boots, having been mended expertly, were more comfortable than ever.

She was about to leave her flet, but Iowen pushed her back inside. "Not with that hair, you don't," she said. She shoved Tirnel to the small vanity table and pulled a brush and comb out of her dress.

Five minutes later, the two of them were walking down the stairs to the breakfast hall. "Stop fussing with it," Iowen said. She swatted the younger elf's hands away from the neat braids. "You'll mess up all the work I've done"

"It pulls in an uncomfortable way," Tirnel muttered.

"Stop anyway."

Tirnel dropped her hands from the elaborate braids. "They'll get mussed from my training anyway. What's the point of keeping it nice?" she grumbled.

"So that you'll appear presentable and so that the others will accept you without question. You look like a native of Lórien, and coming from Mirkwood, you're lucky if anyone accepts you besides me and the Galadhrim." Iowen sped up, wincing at her rash words.

"What are you talking about?" Tirnel asked. Her face had fallen, and she looked apprehensive. "Tell me," she pressed, taking hold of Iowen's arm.

Iowen pulled her arm away and didn't meet Tirnel's eyes. "Things between elves of Lothlórien and those of Mirkwood have not been good lately. Recently, a patrol of Mirkwood elves strayed into Lórien and were not pleased about it. Many of the elves here were on the edge of revolt, for though we in Lórien do not eat meat, our kin in Greenwood do, and the Mirkwood elves insisted upon eating deer that they killed around our borders. Some elves refused to sit anywhere near them, or to talk to them at all.

"I suggest you keep your identity and origin to yourself until the others are a little more comfortable with you." Iowen turned away as Tirnel dropped her arm. "Come now. We'll be late for breakfast if you don't hurry."

The stairs seemed to melt away as Tirnel followed Iowen. She didn't even want to go to breakfast, seeing as her stomach was full of snakes. But not the little garter snakes that she had played with for most of her childhood: These felt more like the poison ones that Radagast always dealt with. They had always hissed at her, sending her sprinting back to Radagast's side.

Shaking off the memory, Tirnel realised that Iowen had stopped outside a set of doors. "Here are the halls," Iowen said. Peering into Tirnel's downcast eyes, she placed a finger under the elfling's chin and raised her head. "Don't be afraid. I'll take you to sit with my friends. They'd like to meet you."

Tirnel took a deep breath. "Okay," she said. "I suppose I'm ready. Can you introduce me?"

Iowen smiled in a motherly sort of way, then hugged the younger elf. Tirnel looked shocked but returned the gesture. "Of course. I'll say you're from Imladris. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel are on good terms with the Lord Elrond, and so are we." The doors opened and Uirwen stood there, an apple in one hand and a hunting knife in the other.

"Where have you been, Hallothneth? I expected you at least a half hour ago." She bit into the apple and sheathed the knife.

"Running late. I'm sorry," Tirnel muttered.

"Well, get in there and grab something, then come straight to the fields."

Tirnel's eyes widened. "Can't I stop by my flet and get my sword?"

Uirwen shook her head. "We're working with the bow first today. I'll see you on the fields in ten minutes."

Tirnel followed Iowen into the hall, and nodded as the handmaiden pointed out where to get food. She walked over and took a pear from a pile of fruit, then was heading for the door again when Iowen grabbed her arm.

"Oh, do stay a while, mellon nîn. Uirwen isn't Marchwarden; she can't scare me," Iowen said. She pulled Tirnel over to a table on the edge of the hall that was surrounded by handmaidens.

"Come now, Iowen," one woman chided sitting at a nearby table. "If the new recruit needs to go train, we can't hold her up!"

Iowen scowled at the speaker. "I am simply being social, Raenil. More than than you ever are."

The woman called Raenil smiled coldly. "I do not want to keep our brave new guardian away from vital training, my dear Iowen, as you have certainly kept her with your silly braiding."

Tirnel instantly and silently vowed never to complain about Iowen's braiding again.

Iowen scoffed and turned to face Tirnel, who could see the hurt under a thick layer of defiance. Anger flared in her chest as she pushed Iowen to one side.

The smug grin slid from Raenil's face as Tirnel approached. The fire in her gold eyes was quite terrifying, but the older elf stood her ground. "Why do you antagonise her? She has done nothing to you, and anyone can see you're just jealous of how well she can braid."

Raenil laughed. "On the contrary, little one, I find her work to be shabby and childish. For example, I can see you let her experiment on your own hair. Come, child, I'll fix it."

Before Tirnel could move, two of the other elves had swept her over to Raenil's side of the table and sat her down in a chair. Raenil herself was holding a brush in one hand, and the other was clutching Tirnel's shoulder as she gazed harshly at Iowen.

"Now, my little friend, what's your name?" Raenil said, brushing out the braids that Iowen had so meticulously woven with an expression of distaste on her face.

Tirnel was looking uneasily at the faces of the elves surrounding her, looking for Iowen. "Hallothneth," she said finally. Iowen was trying to pass the elves in front of her, but they pushed her back.

"Beautiful name for a beautiful girl." Raenil had finished undoing the braids from Tirnel's hair and was brushing it out now. "What are you parents' names? I might know them."

Iowen's eyes widened. Tirnel had told her that she was an orphan the night before, when Iowen had asked a very similar question.

"My parents are dead," Tirnel said simply.

Raenil's fingers didn't stop combing through Tirnel's hair, but her voice dropped into a tone dripping with so much honey that it would make a bee jealous. "Oh, Hallothneth. I'm so sorry, how could I have known?"

Tirnel's shoulders tightened slightly. "It's alright."

Raenil started to braid Tirnel's hair with the fluidity of a stream in the sunlight. "I find gîn bain, my dear," Raenil said, twisting the strands together. "This dark brown mixed with gold? Where do you hail, to gain such beautiful colours?"

"Greenwood the Great." The forest's name had slipped from Tirnel's lips before she could stop it. Raenil's sickly-sweet voice and her own lingering exhaustion had placed her into a sort of half-asleep state in which she wasn't in complete control.

Gasps sprang from the other elves around them as Raenil's fingers froze in the younger elf's hair. "What?"

Tirnel snapped out of the sleepy place and sat up straighter. She couldn't back down from her word now.

Elves at other tables turned at the mention of the accursed forest and whispers filled the hall.

Tirnel swallowed nervously; her mouth had gone all dry. "You heard me. The Greenwood."

"Mirkwood." The whisper swept the hall again.

"Avof nathlad 'werth min daur vîn," Raenil snarled, all honey gone now.

Noises of agreement came from all sides as Raenil shoved Tirnel off of the chair. "But did you not see how she defended me, an elf from Lórien whom she didn't know until yesterday? She stood up for me, and she is not a traitor!" Iowen cried, pushing through the crowd to Tirnel's side. "In fact, she has killed only spiders for survival. She is the most kind elf you'll ever meet. She is laying her life on the line for you: people she's never met before in her life, people who are judging her based on her home. You're the traitors." With that, she stalked off, Tirnel in her wake.

"Thank you, mellon nîn," Tirnel muttered, combing Raenil's braids out with her fingers as they walked.

"Thank you, Hallothneth. That Raenil thinks a lot of herself, and her braids aren't even any good! It has been on my mind to stand up to her, but I never have the confidence."

Tirnel and Iowen approached the field where Uirwen was waiting. "What took you so long?" The lieutenant snapped.

"We were unavoidably detained," Iowen said haughtily.

"Well, free up your schedule. We have a lot do, and barely enough time to do it in." Uirwen tossed Tirnel the bow she had used yesterday and a quiver of arrows. "That target over there. Let's go."

Tirnel waved to Iowen and hurried to catch up with Uirwen. "So, Uirwen, I told Haldir this, but I have shot barely once in my life."

"Well, it looks like you'll be learning in a hurry. Now, show me your best shot."

Tirnel extracted a red-feathered arrow from her quiver and nocked it to the bowstring, then pulled into full draw. Uirwen watched as the arrow thunked into the second ring of the target.

"Not bad. Try bringing this arm up a little. Might get a ten, if there's no wind." Another shot: Closer, but not right on target. "Good. Keep trying, while I get your knives."

Uirwen walked off as Tirnel raised the bow. The arrow hit dead center. Uirwen returned as Tirnel walked up to the target. "I hit the center!" Tirnel said happily.

"Good! Take these." Uirwen handed Tirnel a pair of knives. "I think it best if you carry these at all times, in addition to your sword. These are better in close-contact, like for an unsavory suitor." Uirwen grinned. "But here you go. Let's see how you do."

Tirnel took the knives from the leather sheathes and spun them in her hands. She dropped it and she looked to Uirwen, grinning sheepishly.

The lieutenant smiled. "Here. This is how you should hold them." She positioned the younger elf's fingers on the redwood handle, then took her wrist in one hand. A dummy sat nearby, and Uirwen led Tirnel to it. "Look. When your knife is here, the other should be back, in case this one is lost to your enemy." Uirwen guided Tirnel's hands towards the neck of the dummy. "Cut here first to bring him down quick, and here to make his spine stop working." Tirnel moved her knives at Uirwen's direction, and hay fell out of the cuts that she made. "Good! Now, here's how to gut someone." Uirwen brought up Tirnel's knives in a straight line up the dummy's torso. "You won't need to do that usually; but it's good for when they won't stay down."

Tirnel nodded, then performed the maneuvers again, this time at full speed. Her gutting blow knocked the head off the dummy, and she looked up at Uirwen.

"Agoreg vê, Hallothneth," Uiwen said. "I am very impressed. Now, run off and get your sword and I'll try to oppose you," Uirwen said. She drew the blade from the sheath at her side as Tirnel ran towards the mallorn tree that held her flet. The girl was an exceptional fighter, and she had the eyes of a warrior. Uirwen kicked the head of the dummy and watched the straw fly into the air. Hallothneth would surely be a valuable addition to the Galadhrim.

Soon Tirnel returned, a black leather sheath buckled to her side and silver hilt protruding from it. "Got it," she called. She wiped a bit of blood off of her hands as she approached.

"What's that on your hands?" Uirwen asked, eyes narrowing. Rumors had reached her that Raenil was becoming crueler. Hallothneth might have fallen victim to an attack from the older elf. Uirwen had never been able to prove that Raenil was physically attacking other elves, but she had her suspicions.

"Nothing. Well, not nothing. It's blood." Tirnel wiped the last of it off and unsheathed her sword.

"Whose blood? Yours? Did Raenil attack you?" Uirwen was taking Tirnel's hands in her own, turning them over and examining the streaks of blood that still stained them.

"Not mine, and she didn't attack me. She attacked my friend, Iowen. I'd promised her I wouldn't tell anyone, because she said that Raenil would only do it again. I helped her clean herself up, then got my sword and came down here."

Uirwen shook her head, scowling fiercely. "I knew it. I knew Raenil was attacking elves. I've just never been able to prove it, because victims are too scared to speak out. Hallothneth, has she made any particular advances at you?"

Tirnel dropped her head. "I don't think she'll attack me," she said quietly.

"She probably will. If you don't join her little club, she'll probably try to ostracize you. If you continue to go against her, she will most likely attack."

"No, she won't." Tirnel's face fell. "She and the rest of the elves who were at breakfast are now either terrified of me or too disgusted to approach me."

Uirwen dropped Tirnel's hands. "What do you mean?"

Tirnel looked up, straight into Uirwen's eyes. "Can I trust you?"

Uirwen was bewildered. "Of course! If it is something unsavory from your past, I won't judge you on it. I will judge you on how you will perform here. But if it is something on which I must act, I will act."

Tirnel grimaced. "I'm not from Imladris; I'm from Mirkwood."

When Uirwen didn't reply, she looked up to see the lieutenant of the Galadhrim looking thoroughly confused. "...And why are the elves disgusted or scared of you?"

Tirnel shook her head. "Didn't you hear me? I said I'm from Mirkwood! The most dark and festered elf-kingdom in Middle-earth! My relatives are fierce, unwise, killers and evil sorceresses! I am the spawn of horrible evil people, Uirwen, and that does not trouble you?"

Uirwen smiled. "I do not believe that you are an evil person, Hallothneth. You are different. You are a dangerous fighter, and I admire that, but do not let the past define you."

Tirnel felt she could have sobbed in relief. "Thank you. I was afraid that you would remove me from the Galadhrim."

"Of course not! We need your ferocity in our ranks to protect our lands." Uirwen smiled. "You'll be a better fighter than a few of the lads."

Tirnel laughed. Uirwen, sensing an opportunity for a lesson, swung her sword up at Tirnel's face.

The younger elf yelped and pulled back, raising her sword up to defend her face and staring at Uirwen.

The lieutenant smirked and took a step back, as did her opponent, and both bowed to indicate the battle's beginning. Tirnel attacked first, sword held at the ready.

The swords met with a clash. The impact was good, and neither elf was off-balance as they returned to a waiting stance.

"You fight well, little warrior. I understand why the Lady recommended you." Uirwen bowed her head slightly in respect, not taking her eyes from Tirnel's.

"Thank you, Uirwen. I'm honoured to be able to defend my new homeland." Uirwen swung her sword, aiming for Tirnel's legs, but the younger elf leapt over the sweeping blade.

Tirnel dodged as Uirwen raised her sword again, ready for more. The lieutenant blew a strand of hair out her face and smiled. "Talent, indeed. It will be interesting to see Haldir compete against you."

The sparring match continued, Uirwen's blade sometimes only just missing Tirnel. Tirnel was not afraid of the sword, though, and met it with her own. Tirnel felt as though an age had passed at one point, as the two of them circled each other. A few elves had entered the field to practice, and most of them congregated around the two.

Shouts of "Go, Uirwen!" came from the spectators, and a few cheers for the recruit. But Uirwen ignored them, as did Tirnel, both intensely focused on their fight.

"Anywhere near giving up yet, Uirwen?" Tirnel hissed. Her eyes were lit with golden fire, and she showed no signs of tiring.

"I'd never hear the end of it if I let a recruit beat me," snarled Uirwen. She was in awe of the skills Tirnel had, but tried not to show it as the duel progressed.

After the two had fought for a quarter of an hour or so, Tirnel began to get frustrated. She scooped up a handful of dirt and threw it at Uirwen.

"Fighting dirty, now, aren't we?" Uirwen said. She too scooped up some dirt and threw it at Tirnel, who dodged the cloud of dust.

"I deemed it prudent," the younger elf replied cheekily. "This duel is overlong, so I tried to shorten it."

"I can help you there," Uirwen said. She lunged at Tirnel, preparing to stab, but stumbled as her opponent leapt aside. Before she knew it, Tirnel's blade was at her throat.

The circle of watching elves cheered and laughed as Uirwen slowly stood, Tirnel slightly behind her, blade still ready. It looked like Uirwen was about to surrender, but just as Tirnel was preparing to lower her sword, Uirwen caught her wrist in an iron grip and flipped her over one shoulder. The spectating elves scrambled back, watching as Tirnel rolled over, pushing herself up onto all fours. Uirwen snatched the handle of the younger elf's sword and threw it away, narrowly missing another elf.

Tirnel spat dirt and hair out of her mouth, eyes narrowed and fixed on Uirwen, who was smiling in a smug way. "Not all fights are by your rules, Hallothneth."

Tirnel didn't answer. Her face was hot, and the dirt was sticking to it. Swiping a hand quickly across her scarlet cheeks, she crouched low to the ground and leveled a stare that could've burned wood at Uirwen.

Uirwen laughed. "Calm down, little one! Can't have you overheating on your first-" Just like Haldir, Uirwen found herself on her back in the dirt. The watching elves had jumped back to avoid being fallen upon, and now swarmed closer to help the lieutenant sit up. Tirnel was casually dusting herself off, picking leaves from her hair, and didn't approach her opponent.

"Why, Uirwen! You're covered in dust. Did you fall, mellon nîn? Maybe you should change your tunic." A smile was curling Tirnel's lip, and she didn't look the least bit sorry for her actions. She had picked up and sheathed her sword, and now kicked Uirwen's back to her.

"It's nearly time to eat," an elf said. Uirwen stood, brushing herself off. She picked up her sword and buckled it to her side, then bowed her head to Tirnel.

"I won't say that you've beaten me," Uirwen said. "But you did do a good job. Now come and eat. Or, perhaps not," she added, looking down at her filthy tunic. "Go change and stow your weapon, then meet me in the dining hall."

Tirnel nodded and left the field, head buzzing. She had drawn with the lieutenant of the Galadhrim! She had proved herself, and Uirwen didn't shun her because she was a wood-elf. Reaching the foot of the stairs, Tirnel suddenly and vividly recalled what she had seen when she retrieved her sword that morning.

 _The door was open slightly, which was unusual. Tirnel pushed it open further and heard a noise from the bathroom. She crept towards it, snatching up her sword from the bed. Stretching one hand out before her, Tirnel opened the door and came face-to-face with Iowen._

 _The handmaiden looked horrible. She was bleeding from a gash on her arm and her dress was torn in several places. Her face was streaked with tears, and her hair was loose from its usually-elegant braids. When Tirnel entered the room, she had stood up from the chair next to the bath, where pink-tinted water steamed gently._

" _Oh, Iowen! What happened to you?" Tirnel cried, placing an arm around the older elf's shoulders._

" _It was Raenil. After I left you at the fields, I returned here only to find Raenil waiting with a few of her friends. She was unarmed, but she keeps her nails long, which is how this happened. I didn't think it was that deep, but it kept bleeding until I washed it._

" _Her friends did this to my dress, pulling at it until I thought they meant to undress me and take it with them. They were quick and effective, they left only five minutes ago."_

" _I'll go and pay them back for this," Tirnel snarled. She stood, but Iowen clutched her hand, staining it with blood._

" _Don't go. If you want to help me, you can help bind this cut. I don't want to bleed out."_

 _Tirnel sat reluctantly, and wrapped pieces of linen around Iowen's arm. "It wouldn't take me long to teach them a lesson," she pleaded._

" _No. You have to go back to Uirwen." Iowen winced as Tirnel pulled the bandage tight and tied it off._

 _Tirnel scowled, but stood and turned to leave. "Hide, if she returns. Then, when she's gone, go straight to Lady Galadriel. Don't argue," she said, putting up a hand as Iowen opened her mouth. "Just do it. You'll be safer."_

Iowen had agreed, and now Tirnel's heart beat faster as she ascended the stairs to her flet. She jogged up the stairs, reaching the door to find Iowen sitting on the bed in a new dress, mending the old one, which had been cleaned of bloodstains. "Iowen! Did Raenil return? Are you alright?"

Iowen looked up and smiled. "No, she didn't come back. I assume your training session went well?"

Tirnel looked down at the dirt all over her tunic, then laughed. "Indeed it did! I bested Uirwen in armed combat though she was quite good at unarmed combat, and now I'm to change to eat with her."

Iowen clapped her hands. "I would deem that a success! Now, how about a dress for-"

"No. But I will let you braid my hair before I leave again," Tirnel said, unbuttoning the front of her tunic and reaching into the wardrobe for a green one. She retreated into the bathroom and exited a minute later, the dirty grey one draped over her arm. Iowen was standing by the bed, waiting.

Tirnel sat and looked out the window as Iowen brushed the leaves and dirt out of her hair and began to braid it.

"I think you made a good impression, besides Raenil's blurting out that you're from Mirkwood," Iowen commented, tying off the last braid with a bit of string.

Tirnel stood. "Did I? I still feel as though I am an outsider."

"That's normal. They only met you this morning, after all. Give them time."

The two elves left the flet, Tirnel grabbing her sword as an afterthought. "I really don't trust Raenil, and if she can get into the flet, I'm taking no chances."

The dining hall was crowded with elves, all sitting at tables around the edges like at breakfast, or getting food from the center.

"Hi, Hallothneth! We're over here!" Uirwen's call reached Tirnel's ears, and she turned to see the lieutenant and the rest of the off-duty Galadhrim sitting around several tables in the back of the hall.

Tirnel raised a hand in greeting, then gathered some food. "Iowen, come on. Uirwen wants to catch Raenil just as much as us. Come tell her what happened."

Iowen nodded, then glanced over Tirnel's shoulder and paled. "It's her," she hissed.

Raenil sat against the left wall, surrounded as she had been earlier by her accomplices. She sneered at Tirnel and Iowen, both of whom shivered slightly.

"Come on," Tirnel muttered. She and Iowen hurried to Uirwen's table, where the lieutenant sat, relaxing with her fellow soldiers.

"Ah, look, faithful soldiers! The newest addition to our ranks. Come, Hallothneth, join me. And, if I am not mistaken, your name is Iowen?" Uirwen inquired, smiling at the nervous handmaiden.

Iowen nodded. "Yes, it is. I was told that you have reason to believe that Raenil is attacking other elves. I have been attacked, and I want her stopped."

Uirwen sat up quickly, nearly unseating the elf beside her. "Sorry, Laegon. Yes, Iowen, I want her stopped too. Can you please tell me more?"

Tirnel found a chair and placed it across from the lieutenant, gesturing for Iowen to sit. She did, twisting her hands in her lap and throwing a glance over her shoulder at Raenil. "You have nothing to fear here," Tirnel whispered. "We're surrounded by the best warriors of Lórien here. If Raenil tries to start anything, she'll be on her back in a second." She winced. "That didn't come out quite right. But rest assured, you're safe here." Iowen smiled, then began her tale.

By the time she had finished, all the other elves at the table were listening in. A few had turned to stare at Raenil, who waved flirtily back. One of the Galadhrim wrinkled his nose in disgust, then turned back to Iowen and Uirwen. Another elf stood, hand clutching his sword-hilt. "Uirwen, this is horrible to listen to and even worse to ignore. May I go and arrest her?"

"No, Helegon. Let Iowen finish her tale, then I will take care of her." Uirwen reached over the table and clasped Iowen's hands in her own, freeing them from the twisted skirt of her dress.

Helegon's knuckles whitened on the hilt, but he finally released it and sat next to Iowen. She glanced over, cheeks flushing slightly. Helegon gave her shoulder a squeeze, then faced Uirwen again.

"Are you sure that's all?" Uirwen asked gently.

"Yes. Now, please, go and arrest her before I do it myself!" Iowen hissed, glancing quickly behind her again. Helegon stood and Uirwen followed suit, both of them glaring now at Raenil.

Raenil, however, was already standing up to leave. "Oh, no you don't," Uirwen growled. "Raenil!" she called, making all the other elves in the hall go silent. "You are under arrest for physically attacking one of your own kin!"

Raenil turned and sprinted for the door, shoving other elves out of her way. Helegon sprinted ahead and caught her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back. The captured elf squirmed around and started to claw at Helegon's arms and face. "Uirwen, bind her!" Helegon yelled, eyes screwed up in pain as Raenil continued to claw at him.

Uirwen caught the struggling elf by the legs, and together, she and Helegon carried the screaming elf from the hall. Iowen sat still, her face still pale from shock. A few elves got up and patted her on the back, thanking her for taking care of Raenil, but one of them whispered into her ear, "We know where you live, sneak. We who remain will come for you."

Iowen went paler, looking up at one of Raenil's friends who was smiling smugly. Tirnel frowned. "Go after your friend, and leave us," she snapped, placing a hand on Iowen's shoulder.

The elf sneered briefly and left, bringing Raenil's other followers with her. Iowen shuddered, standing next to Tirnel and looking at the floor.

"Hey," Tirnel said gently, shaking Iowen's shoulder. She placed a hand on the other elf's cheek and lifted her face up. "Do those elves know where you sleep?"

Iowen nodded. Her face paled even more, if such a thing were possible, then put her head in her hands.

"Hey," Tirnel said again. "Sleep in my flet tonight. I don't want to lose you as a friend, or for you to be killed by your own kin." Tirnel raised a hand as Iowen protested, adding "I want to spend the night in full knowledge of your health. I would not have you injured if I can prevent it."

Waving away Iowen's shaky thanks, Tirnel smiled. "Let's go move your things to the flet. Can you walk?"

The two of them left the hall, a few elves murmuring softly as Iowen passed. The sun was shining through the mellyrn, creating a dappled green world beneath the leaves. Iowen led Tirnel to a tall tree, labeled in neat Sindarin, _Handmaidens._ Iowen began to climb the twisting stairs, Tirnel jogging along in her wake, and stopped about halfway up, before a door which bore a sign that had a beautifully lettered name: _Iowen._

The door opened onto a cramped room containing a bed and wardrobe, and only a very small window. Iowen quickly gathered a few dresses and undergarments, stuffing them into a bag, then picked up a book.

"It belonged to my father," she said, smiling sadly. "I would protect it with my life."

Tirnel nodded solemnly, but felt a terrible pang of guilt. Iowen was being completely honest with her, and had been attacked for their friendship, but had still not left Tirnel's side. She deserved the truth.

Breathing deeply, she turned to Iowen, who was carefully packing the book into the bag. "Iowen." The elf turned, the book in her hands. "I am not Hallothneth. That is not my given name, and my parents are not dead. My father is King Thranduil. But my mother was killed by spiders. This is hers," she added, twirling the gold chain through her fingers. Then she blinked, and when she opened her eyes, Iowen was still packing the book. Tirnel hadn't spoken aloud. She sighed. She couldn't do it. Not yet.

* * *

This is like the longest chapter I've ever written. I just couldn't find a place to chop it.

I find gîn bain: Your hair is beautiful

Agoreg vê: That was good

Avof nathlad 'werth min daur vîn: We do not welcome traitors in our forest


	11. Family History

Repost of chapter eleven!

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Back in Hallothneth's flet, Iowen draped her dresses over the back of a chair, then sat upon the seat. Hallothneth had gone to train, after making sure that Iowen was armed with a small knife, and telling her to defend, but not to attack too much so there would be no doubt that she was a victim. She took the book out of her bag, letting it fall open to a page she had visited often: a portrait of two elves. Her parents smiled up at her from the page, safe from time. Her mother's gentle eyes seemed to glow, and her father's sword gleamed. Iowen wiped a tear from her eyes, remembering the day that her father had not returned from patrol, and her mother's face when she received the news that her husband had been killed. Shortly after, her mother left for Valinor, leaving Iowen in the care of the handmaidens. The book was left to Iowen, who was old enough to work. Her sewing was second to none, beside her mother.

Iowen had taken over the position of apprentice seamstress, over the heads of a group of elves(Raenil being prominent among them, angering her quite a lot). Her creations had been worn by Galadriel and Celeborn, and she had helped to teach Celebrian to sew as well, and Arwen too, in her turn. She had been very popular among the other handmaidens until Raenil had snuck into Iowen's room and slit the tips of the young seamstress' fingers with a knife. Iowen had not been able to sew for three weeks, and was forced to retreat to other work, like taking care of the other elves, changing sheets and bedding. Raenil, in the meantime, wormed her way back into Galadriel's good graces by copying Iowen's style.

When Iowen's fingers had healed, she took up hairdressing, which Raenil and the others scoffed at, but at which Iowen excelled. She even attended the Lady before a feast. Then, just before Hallothneth had arrived, she had been relegated back to a combination of all the jobs she had performed before. She sewed for the Lady between hairdressing and attending to guests and others.

Now that Hallothneth was here, she had been assigned to care for the new elf. Already she had exercised all three techniques. Even as Iowen set the book back down in her bag, Hallothneth burst in, soaking wet under a cover of dirt. She looked like she had lost a fight with the bank of the Celebrant.

"Uirwen threw me in the river, then we wrestled on the shore," she explained, wiping a hand across her face. With dirt streaked across her face, Hallothneth looked like a mud monster.

"Well, get into the bath!" Iowen cried, standing to get the water. "You're dripping mud everywhere."

Hallothneth threw her sword onto the bed, and the blade was thankfully clean. Iowen filled the tub with cold water, ignoring Hallothneth's complaints, then took the filthy tunic that Hallothneth handed her. It was torn in a few places, and Iowen sighed as she drew a basin of water to wash the clothes, then retrieved her sewing bag from within her other sack.

Hallothneth emerged from the bathroom, hair dripping, and set her dirty breeches next to the basin, then shook the dust off her shirt and reached for a needle to mend it. "Are you specially good at anything, Iowen?" Hallothneth asked, threading the needle but poking her finger. A bit of blood stained the fabric.

"I was the seamstress's apprentice for a while, and then the attendant to Lady Galadriel, but then I was relegated to normal handmaiden work." Iowen took the shirt and rinsed it, being sure to scrub the blood out. "My mother's sewing was the best in Lórien, and I picked up the family trade. My father, when not called upon to help the Galadhrim, was the chief historian in the libraries. He wrote this book, and his best friend drew my parents together when they first bonded. I look at it sometimes, when I miss them. I will see them again, but hopefully not for a long while."

Hallothneth sat up and stretched like a cat. "That's a beautiful story. Do you miss them terribly?"

"Not terribly, no. Only when I feel all else is gone." The two of them sat in silence for a moment, then Hallothneth stood suddenly and began to pace.

"I have not been entirely honest with you, Iowen," she began. "I wish to tell you everything, but only if I can put complete faith in you that no other soul will hear these words." She stopped pacing and ran a hand through her hair. "This is by no means easy. You are the first I will have told. Probably the last as well. But I had better get on with it before I lose my nerve." She took a deep breath and turned to face Iowen, who was watching intensely. "My name is not Hallothneth, nor were both of my parents killed by spiders. I did tell a half-truth: my mother fell to them, but not my father. He is sitting in Eryn Lasgalen, on a throne of carven wood. He is Thranduil, the Elvenking, and he cast both me and my mother from his halls when I was barely a year old.

"I am Tirnel, secret daughter of the king. I doubt either he or his son will claim me, so here I stay, cloaked as Hallothneth, the Hiding Flower. Joining the Galadhrim was my only path, if I am to avenge the death of my mother. I have only her eyes, half of my hair, and this," Tirnel said, pausing for breath and fingering the chain at her throat.

Fireworks seemed to be going off in Iowen's head. **No...impossible...children are only born from true love** _,_ she wanted to blurt out, but Hallothneth, no, Tirnel _,_ held up a hand.

"My mother's name was Laergulwen, Song of Sorcery, and I do not doubt she had some Black Magic to aid her in seducing the king." Tirnel sat down heavily on the bed, causing the basin to slop a bit of water onto Iowen's lap, but the older elf took no notice.

Words threatened to fall unformed from Iowen's mouth, but she took a moment to compose herself before saying, "So everything else is true? You were raised by Radagast, in the forest? And Variele is your mother's sword?"

"Yes. The rest is true. I only hope you can forgive me for the lies I told, and from this point forth that I will tell no more."

Iowen smiled. "I understand the sanctity of one's parentage, and how it must have pained you to lie, but I forgive you, and Uirwen will too."

"I cannot tell Uirwen. She will call me Hallothneth, as you must when we are in company."

"I shall."

The sun was setting outside the window soon, as Iowen and Tirnel chatted. Iowen was mending the breeches while Tirnel polished her sword. The atmosphere was considerably happier in the flet, and Raenil had been all but forgotten. But as the darkness fell, Iowen began to get slightly nervous.

"The restraints on Raenil have surely been lifted by now. She will be hopping mad, and quite possibly both of us will be hurt," she said to Tirnel, who waved a hand.

"Not a problem. Helegon was sent to escort you, as were the other members of the Galadhrim dispatched to protest the Wood tonight. Helegon is quite taken with you, Iowen," she added. Iowen flushed.

A few minutes later, Iowen was braiding and unbraiding her hair, fingers blurring over the strands. Tirnel was practising her footwork, swishing Variele through the air. A knock sounded at the door. Iowen's head jerked up and she squeaked, instantly fussing with her dress.

Tirnel smiled and sheathed her sword. She walked over to the door, opening it to reveal Helegon standing there. He was smiling, but there were a few long red scratches on his face.

"Oh…" Iowen's hands fluttered around the end of her braid. "Are you alright? Raenil's scratches run deep sometimes."

Helegon inclined his head, a pink tinge on his pale face. "Quite alright, my lady, I assure you. And yourself? I seem to remember your saying that she had attacked you as well?"

"I...perfectly fine, thank you." Iowen was flushed again, eyes shining.

Tirnel looked from one to the other, seeming slightly amused. "Are we going? Or should I leave you two alone?" Both elves blushed deep scarlet, and Tirnel laughed. "Let's go, star-crossed lovers."

Tirnel let other two through first, and then closed the door after following them through.

"I knew your father, I believe. He was Thiadir?" Helegon offered his arm to Iowen, who took it.

"Yes. Did you know him well?"

"No better than any of the others." Helegon stepped off the last stair, then waited for Iowen and helped her keep her balance. "I fought alongside him as well."

Iowen's hand flew to her mouth. "You fought..?"

Helegon nodded, but his face fell as he realized what she thought. "I was not there on that day, Iowen. I was not by his side. His group was trapped…"

"Stop." Iowen said gently, voice shaking. Tirnel threw a worried look towards them.

The dining hall was filled with light and laughter. Raenil was closeted over in a corner, surrounded by her friends and glaring daggers at Iowen, who was shaking on Helegon's arm. He noticed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

Uirwen was sitting against the back wall as she had earlier, and rose at the others' approach. "Ah, welcome, mellon nîn. Iowen, come sit by me!"

Iowen flushed and sat next to the lieutenant, who cast an arm about the handmaiden's shoulders. "We have been suffocated by reports from Raenil's other victims all day," Uirwen whispered. "You are the catalyst for them Iowen. You are a hero." She placed a hand behind Iowen's head and pressed her lips to the handmaiden's forehead. Iowen blinked, the place where Uirwen had kissed her burning. The lieutenant smiled, then stood up.

"Good evening to all!" she called, and the hall quieted. "Today, one of our number spoke out against aggression and helped others to do the same!" She raised her glass and said, "To Iowen, daughter of Thiadir. It seems that bravery is inherent in this family!"

The elves around the hall raised their glasses as well, and drank to an extremely stunned Iowen.

Tirnel looked at Iowen, whose natural aura was glowing brighter than usual as a smile spread across her face. Helegon stepped forward and placed his hands on Iowen's shoulders as she stood, then guided her to the door through the crowd.

Across the hall, Raenil stood as well and followed Iowen out. Tirnel noticed, but was having difficulty extracting herself from the throng. When she had, she sprinted from the hall, sword drawn and ready.

The lanterns in the trees shone only a little brighter than the stars, which seemed to blaze with blue fire. Tirnel noticed barely any of it, but ran after Iowen and Helegon.

"Iowen!" she called, searching between the trees, and nearly tripping over a protruding root.

Tirnel stumbled and continued to run after Iowen and Helegon, Finding them at the foot of the tree where Tirnel's flet was. Helegon was leaning down to kiss Iowen's hand, and Tirnel did not want to intrude. A moment later, Helegon left, his blond hair glowing in the dark.

Iowen was halfway up the stairs when Tirnel caught up to her. Her aura was as bright as the stars, and her face was pink. Tirnel smiled and said nothing, but continued to climb.

Once they reached the flet's door, Tirnel pushed it open. The small lantern next to the door flickered on. Iowen walked to the wardrobe and pulled out a few blankets, laying them on the floor under the window.

"I hope you realize that you're sleeping in the bed," Tirnel said. She tossed her sword onto a chair and sat to remove her boots.

"Don't be silly." Iowen took a pillow out of the wardrobe.

"I am not joking," Tirnel said quietly.

Iowen turned to see Tirnel curling up on the pile of blankets. She rolled her eyes and tossed the pillow to the younger elf. "If I am to go on patrol, there won't be any soft beds on the borders!" Tirnel called as Iowen took her nightdress to the bathroom.

A minute later, Iowen emerged in her nightdress and slid into the bed. "This is surely the softest bed in all of Lórien, save the Lady's."

Tirnel laughed at the look of bliss on her friend's face, then snuffed out the lantern. The moon gave its light through the window, illuminating the younger elf under the window and the older in the bed.

"Tirnel?" Iowen was whispering. Tirnel rolled over and sat up.

"Yes?"

"Helegon told me that my father was one of the bravest elves he ever knew." The tone of Iowen's voice made it clear that she was smiling in the same sappy way that Tirnel did whenever she thought about Nemirdir.

"That's good. Does he seem like a nice elf?" Tirnel suppressed a yawn. She was glad to help Iowen sort out her feelings, but she really wanted to get some sleep.

"Oh, yes. So courteous and kind. I'm surprised I didn't know him before now." A sigh. It was slightly giddy, and spiked with the kind of longing that Tirnel only guessed at. She was still only an elfling, technically speaking.

"Go to sleep, mellon nîn." The flet fell silent but for the chirping of crickets.

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I kind of miss the original pre- and post-chapter notes. Oh well. At least we have a cute chapter.


	12. Early Training and Early Nastiness

Repost of chapter twelve!

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In the cold hour before dawn, Tirnel sat up from her nest of blankets. Iowen was motionless, eyes flickering slightly as she dreamed. The Sun was still hiding Her face and the sky was grey-blue. Tirnel rose silently and removed her clothes for the day from the wardrobe, then dressed and pulled on her boots. Variele was still on the chair, and the sheath was next to it. The new knives were still down in the weapons shed on the training field, so Tirnel crept from the flet and down the long stairs.

The birds had just begun to sing as Tirnel reached the shed. It was unlocked, so she entered. The walls had bow-racks against them, and swords in their sheaths hung from the ceiling. Tirnel found her knives buried in a stack of miscellaneous weapons, and strapped them to her back.

The dummy that she had used was gone, a fresh one day in its place. The sun turned the sky pink as Tirnel attacked the dummy, gutting it in much the same way as she had been taught.

She had barely broken a sweat, and now returned to the armory for her bow. The targets were farther away from where she stood than yesterday, but Tirnel didn't mind. Her shots all hit the inner ring of the target, and a few had found the centre.

The Sun's rays broke over the treetops, dazzling Iowen's eyes as she stood at the window. The training field was visible from the flet, and a tiny figure could be seen, shooting at a target. Iowen knew it must be Tirnel, for her bed was empty and sword gone. **And with no breakfast, too,** she thought. Turning to the pile of blankets, she picked them up and flopped them down on the bed. Birds began their deafening symphony, swooping past the window in flocks of dizzying colour.

The door creaked open. Iowen dove for the dagger sitting on the bedside table and turned to see Raenil leaning against the frame, picking at her nails. The older elleth glanced up as Iowen unsheathed the small knife. "Ah, Iowen. The lovely girl who won me a trial and ridicule. Might I take this opportunity to speak with you?"

Iowen didn't respond. She held the knife before her, prepared to injure Raenil if she advanced, and cautiously backed towards the window. Raenil stepped into the room and sat on the bad, causing the blankets to slide down onto the floor. Raenil chuckled grimly. "My dear, I only wish to speak to you, not to attack you. Again." Iowen chanced a glance out the window and saw that Tirnel had stopped training and was heading back to the mallorn. If only she could get there in time.

Tirnel slipped the twin knives into their sheathes at her back, but let her sword shine in the early morning light. The training session had gone quite well, and she felt decently prepared to go on patrol. The stairs couldn't even dampen her optimism as she jogged up them. She arrived at the flet, ready for a hot bath and a good breakfast, but found the door open, as it had been on the day Iowen was attacked. Sheathing Variele, Tirnel pulled one of her knives from her back and pushed the door fully open. Raenil was sitting on the bed, and Iowen, knife drawn, stood by the window. "Iowen! What's going on? How did she get in?"

"The door was open, so I entered. I do hope my presence is welcome." Raenil smirked lazily.

Tirnel looked ready to breath fire. "Get out, now. If you do not, I will call Helegon. Do you remember him?"

Raenil didn't move, still smirking. "Do not meddle in the affairs of those older than you, efling," she said softly. "Why don't you go back to your training? Valar knows you'll need it."

Iowen looked from Tirnel, who was standing as still as a mallorn, to Raenil, who turned to face the handmaiden. A pitying smile spread across her face, nearly as bad as the smirk. "Leave, crooked one," Iowen managed to say, voice shaking.

Raenil laughed again, and Tirnel seemed to shake out of a daze. "You're still afraid of me, Iowen, darling. Let us leave this petty disagreement behind us." Her voice had once more taken on the consistency of poisoned honey, and Iowen could feel herself getting stuck.

"Don't listen. Her words are sick," Tirnel snarled. She lifter her knife before her and stepped forward. "Leave at once, Raenil, or I shall gut you like a fish."

"Bold threats for one so young," Raenil sneered, but now she was eyeing Tirnel's knife with some apprehension.

Realising this, Tirnel, stepped forward further, knife outstretched and pointed directly at Raenil's throat. "I can say I killed you in self-defense," she growled, eyes blazing with a peculiar light. "There would be no consequences. If you value your life, Raenil, flee. Now."

Raenil did so, edging past the blade and out of the room. Sighing heavily, Tirnel sheathed the knife and sank into a chair. She had gone pale, and her eyes were dimmer than normal. Iowen put her knife down and sat on the bed, gazing cautiously at the elfling next to her. "Tirnel? Are you alright, mellon nîn?"

Tirnel looked up. Her face seemed drawn, as if she had been starved for a week. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine. Being that nasty takes a lot out of me, though." Standing, she unbuckled her knives and slung them onto the bed. "Let's go down to breakfast. We'll both feel a lot better after a good meal."

Down in the dining hall, Uirwen was waiting by the Galadhrim's table, smiling pleasantly. "I see you took some early practice," she said to Tirnel, and slapped her on the back. "Good. We'll take you on the next patrol, how does that sound?"

The pear Tirnel had been about to eat fell out of her hand and rolled away. "Y-you're kidding, right?"

Uirwen laughed, and so did a few other elves who sat nearby. "I promise you, I'm not. Haldir will return soon, and I daresay he will approve this. Be ready, the next patrol is quite soon."

After breakfast, Tirnel walked out into the Gardens and sat in the grass. Gazing up at the golden leaves, she grinned and closed her eyes. Her head was spinning, and she felt as giddy as a bird. Radagast had taught her how to call birds to her, but he was always better than her. She tried, though, and a sparrow fluttered onto her hand. It cocked its head at her, twittering at her too fast for comprehension.

"Slow down," she laughed, stroking the feathers on its head with one finger. It chittered at her then flew away again. She sighed and flopped back into the grass, still grinning like a fool. **The Galadhrim** _ **.**_ The chance to defend the Golden Wood, and to learn from some of the best Elven warriors in Arda.

This was an opportunity surely sent by the Valar. There was no way, after the kind of life she had led, that this path would be at her feet. Tirnel stood, took Variele out of its sheath, and battled an invisible orc. Her smile stayed spread across her face until her cheeks ached.

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D'aww. Let's hope she doesn't f*ck up.


	13. First Patrol

Repost of chapter thirteen!

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A couple training-filled days later, Haldir announced that the patrol was going to scout the perimeter. The Marchwarden had just returned himself, but the numerous orc companies were making him wary. That night at dinner, he spoke to the assembled Galadhrim. "We have all noticed the recent unrest." His eyes swept the elves, some of whom sported cuts and bandages. "So, in light of this, those who are unhurt will set out on a patrol tomorrow." He looked around again. Uirwen sat up straighter, a look of fierce determination in her eyes. Tirnel nodded in acknowledgement of Haldir's pronouncement. Her mind was whirling. She was nervous but ready to prove herself.

That night, Iowen listened patiently as Tirnel paced and chattered about her fears and anticipation about going on her first patrol. An hour or so had passed before Tirnel had talked herself into silence and collapsed on the bed.

"Well, you certainly seem to be ready," Iowen said, poking a needle through the skirt of a dress she was mending for a friend, Geleth. The embroidery around the hem was fraying badly.

"Am I? I am afraid of falling into danger, and endangering others who come after me. I don't want to be a—a _damsel in distress!_ "

Iowen looked up, confused. "A what?"

Tirnel flushed. "It's something I picked up from Radagast. It means to be helpless. I want to be fierce and helpful, not...in the way."

The conversation dwindled as the sun set, staining the room scarlet. Tirnel caught up her armload of blankets and settled beneath the window. The stars glowed brightly overhead, seeming to reassure her as she watched them. Her dreams were filled with stars and swords, but also with horrible creatures with pale eyes and sharp teeth, chasing her through the woods.

She woke with a start at dawn, and stood at the window. Birds flew by, twittering in greeting. She whistled back, and held out a hand. A hummingbird zoomed close to her, not landing, but whizzing around her head excitably. She giggled and guarded her face with her hands. The bird finally fluttered to a stop on the windowsill. Tirnel reached a hand out to it, but it took flight again, wings moving too fast for sight, and zipped off, disappearing into the sunrise.

Sighing, she walked to the wardrobe and took out a tunic and breeches. She slipped into the bathroom, washed and dressed, then buckled her weapons to her to her belt and back. The Sun was fully up by the time she crept out of the room, and a note was left for a sleeping Iowen.

The stairs flew by as Tirnel sprinted to the breakfast hall. Only a few elves were there, eating their food and talking quietly. She took a seat at the Galadhrim's table and waited for the others to arrive. They filtered in, Uirwen arriving only minutes after Tirnel. "Ah, the new recruit's eager to prove herself, isn't she?" The lieutenant laughed and sat next to Tirnel, ruffling the younger elf's unbraided hair. Tirnel smiled. She was happy to be accepted, and continued to eat as the rest of the Galadhrim arrived.

Haldir entered a little while after Uirwen, and spoke to his lieutenant at length about the orc companies that had been spotted around Lothlórien. When all of the elves had sat down and were eating, Haldir turned back to the table and spoke to them all. "The orcs are scouting parties. If we make sure that these scouts never return and deliver their reports, we can stall any attempts of attack. Finish eating, and we meet at the guardhouse in ten minutes." He stood and left the hall, grabbing an apple as he passed the food.

After finishing her food, Uirwen stood as well. "Follow me, Hallothneth. I will show you the guardhouse." Tirnel stood and followed along behind the older elf, making sure she remembered the path to the guardhouse by heart.

Haldir stood in a room very like a sitting room, but instead of pictures on the wall, there were maps and scrolls with battle strategies scrawled across them, and instead of couches, there were about thirty chairs, all facing the front. He was studying the scrolls before him, and didn't notice Uirwen and Tirnel entering.

They took seats in the front row and waited for the rest of the elves. The room filled as the Galadhrim entered. The seats filled around Tirnel, and she was pleased to find that Nemirdir had taken the seat on her right. He smiled at her, then laid a finger to his lips.

Soon, Haldir turned to see the Galadhrim. He nodded in approval, then glanced at Uirwen. She sat a little straighter and nodded back. Haldir spoke to the room: "Let's get our weapons."

The elves left the parlour-like room headed for the guardhouse's armoury. Tirnel hurried to catch up with Uirwen, who was grinning in anticipation. "This will be fun," she said to Tirnel, who smiled weakly. Noticing, Uirwen clapped a hand on the younger elf's shoulder. "Scared? Don't be. You're safer with us than anywhere else."

Nonetheless, Tirnel's heart beat as fast as the hummingbird's wings as she strapped her knives to her back. All around her, the other elves were suiting up and pulling their grey cloaks about their shoulders. "Here, Hallothneth." Uirwen handed Tirnel a cloak identical to her own. "You'll need this."

Tirnel fastened the leaf brooch at her throat and followed an elf named Laegon as the Galadhrim set out for the border. It was a beautiful day, a slight breeze ruffling the leaves of the mellyrn around them. Haldir tossed a glance down the line of elves, eyes catching on Tirnel. "All right. We have a new one in our ranks today, so try and help Hallothneth along if she needs it. Don't really think she will, though." He chuckled and turned back to the front.

The patrol and lunch in the forest went relatively smoothly, except for the odd orc that passed. They were shot down silently by the white-feathered arrows that sprouted from their necks like flowers. The last one, though, fell with a squawk and a howl, crashing through the brush on his way to the forest floor. All the elves were instantly in trees, bows and knives ready.

Tirnel was twitching Variele in her hands, nervous energy pounding through her veins. The orcs were even uglier than Uirwen had made them out to be, caked with filth and dried blood. Pale eyes swept the ferns and trunks as one tramped through the woods, looking for elves to kill with its curving scimitar. Tirnel was just hoping that she would never have the misfortune to see one up-close when Variele's razor-sharp blade _snick_ ed through a twig, sending it spiraling down to the orc's feet.

It froze, then bent over the twig, picking it up with two fingers. Slowly, very slowly, it looked up into the branches, straight into Tirnel's eyes. The two of them were still, gazing at each other. Then, a slow, vicious smile spread across the orc's face. It reached for the quiver on its back, readying its bow.

Not knowing what else to do, Tirnel gave a feral yell and dropped from the tree, sword slashing through the orc as if it were butter. Another orc that had been sniffing around nearby howled in fury and rushed towards the elf. Before it could reach her, though, Haldir landed right in front of it and cut off its head.

Other orcs surrounded the two elves, but the rest of the Galadhrim landed in a ring around the the orcs, who were massacred on both sides as Haldir and Tirnel fought their way out and the Galadhrim fought their way in. "Back to the trees!" Haldir cried. Tirnel found herself in a tree with Nemirdir and watched as any orcs who appeared were picked off at once by ash arrows.

Once all the monsters were dead, the Galadhrim stood in a rugged circle to discuss what had just happened. "Hallothneth." Haldir's voice was acidic, full of bitter disappointment. Tirnel forced herself to look up at her captain. "Why did you do that?"

"He was going to shoot me."

"And why would he have done that?"

"Because I'm an elf." Snickers ran through the circle at this response.

"Yes. As are we all. But would he have shot you if you had remained hidden?" Haldir's grey eyes smouldered into Tirnel's gold ones. She dropped her gaze and fiddled with her vambrace.

"No, hir-nîn," she muttered.

Haldir smiled and stepped forward, placing a hand on Tirnel's shoulder. She looked up, eyes full of embarrassment. "Just try to stay hidden next time. No one got hurt, and I think we can call that a successful day's patrol. Who's ready for dinner?" The Galadhrim raised their hands as one, causing Haldir to laugh. He squeezed Tirnel's shoulder and led the way back to the Golden Wood.

After dinner, Tirnel sat alone at the Galadhrim's table in the empty dining hall, nursing a cup of tea, long since gone cold. Footsteps made her look up, but seeing who it was, she groaned and put her head on her arms.

"What is wrong?" Nemirdir asked, sitting down across from Tirnel.

"I nearly botched the patrol by alerting those orcs to our presence. We all could have been killed. I'm surprised that Haldir didn't remove me from the Galadhrim."

"I made a mistake quite like that on my first patrol," Nemirdir said, placing a tentative hand on Tirnel's arm. "I fell out of a tree, right onto the orc's head. Haldir nearly exploded in fury, but we had to fight off the orcs. I saved Haldir's life, and he forgave me, though he did say if I had not fallen, he would not have been in danger." Tirnel laughed weakly, still gazing into her tea.

Nemirdir continued to try to cheer her. "And only yesterday, I dropped an armload of hay onto the stable-master's head from the hay-loft and buried him!"

Tirnel laughed openly, lifting her head to look into Nemirdir's eyes, which sent a shiver down his spine. "I suppose there is one clumsier than me." He smiled too.

"And last month, I knocked a row of helmets into a stack of shields, creating a wave that knocked the legs out from under the armoury master."

Tirnel laughed again, setting down her tea and brushing her hand against Nemirdir's in the process. "You seem to annoy all the masters," she said, a blush tinting her cheeks.

"I have a problem with authority." Nemirdir's hand snuck across the table-top and found Tirnel's. His eyes sparkled mischievously.

Tirnel looked calmly into his deep blue eyes, sending a bolt of lightning through Nemirdir's mind. "Tell me more."

They sat there telling stories until the Sun poured her rays into the hall.

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D'AWW. SO CUTE.


	14. A Lucky Night and A Kiss

Repost of chapter fourteen!

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Tirnel carefully opened the door to her flet, wincing as it creaked. She was not eager to hear Iowen's admonishments about her being absent from the flet all night. She sighed in relief, noticing that Iowen was still asleep. But a wide grin split over Tirnel's face as she saw that Iowen was not alone in the bed, and that her nightdress appeared to be missing. The handmaiden was being held by an equally shirtless Helegon of the Galadhrim, and the two of them were sound asleep. Helegon's hair was splayed over both of their faces, and it fluttered as they breathed. Holding back a squeal of delight at Iowen's situation, Tirnel crept into as quietly as possible with new clothes. Changing quickly, she left the flet and tiptoed down the stairs to a safe point where she slumped against the tree trunk and giggled herself into silence. After a little while, she ran down the rest of the stairs, shaking her head.

Iowen's eyes gradually cleared, leaving her with the sight of golden hair. For a split second she was confused, but then remembered who it was that lay beside her, who had an arm around her, pulling her close. She smiled and blew a strand of Helegon's hair out of her mouth. "Wake up, love," she whispered. Helegon's pale eyes, so like the ice for which he was named, cleared and flicked over to Iowen's face. A slow smile stole across his features as he shifted onto his side, facing Iowen. They gazed at each other in the fresh sunlight, dust swirling in its rays. A sense of embarrassment flooded Iowen's body, permeated with a soft and guilty contentment. She beamed at Helegon, stretching her arms above her head and placing them around his neck. She kissed him on the nose. He blinked, a little startled, then took her chin in his fingers and kissed her full-on.

Iowen, though reluctantly, broke off the kiss, then sat up. She could feel the places where his lips had touched her burning. Taking a blanket off the bed, she caught up her dress and entered the bathroom, feeling Helegon's eyes on her as she did. Closing the door behind her, she sank down on her side, giddy and a little bit ashamed. She was sure that her face had flushed completely, but she didn't care. Dropping the blanket, she pulled the dress on over her head, noticing as she did so, red patches on her skin. The sight of these made her giggle and blush still more.

She exited the bathroom, seeing that Helegon had put his breeches back on, but had left his shirt on the bed. Iowen sat down next to him, where he immediately pushed her down and began kissing her neck. She stifled a moan and pushed on his chest. He sat up, then hugged her to him, nuzzling her hair and neck. "Well, that was an effective way to protect you from Raenil," he murmured and Iowen laughed, tossing him his shirt.

"Well, hir-nîn, feel free to protect me again," she said, kissing him on the cheek. He chuckled, pulling the shirt on. They both brushed their hair, Iowen braiding Helegon's and planting numerous kisses on the back of his neck.

The dining hall was crowded with people. "Na van ídhrog mened?" Tirnel asked Nemirdir, who still sat with her.

"There's a feast tonight," he responded. "Eating, drinking, dancing, trying not to drink too much wine because Haldir will kill you, things like that."

Tirnel laughed. "I've been here for weeks and never got wind of this feast. But it sounds as if it will be great fun. I look forward to dancing with you," she added. Nemirdir looked shocked for a moment, and seemed on the verge of looking behind him to make sure that Tirnel really had been talking to him.

"And I look forward to being your escort," he replied. He took her hand again, and they sat for a while, gazing into each other's eyes. Over Nemirdir's shoulder, Tirnel saw Iowen and Helegon, both blushing. She grinned and extended her free hand to wave Iowen over, calling "Tolo, govano ven!" The two elves joined them at the Galadhrim's table, Iowen sitting next to Tirnel, across from Helegon.

"I just told Hallothneth about the feast tonight," Nemirdir said, running his thumb over Tirnel's knuckles.

Helegon smiled. "Good! All four of us can go: Iowen and I, and you and Hallothneth. That sound alright?" he added, glancing between Tirnel and Iowen.

"Most enjoyable," Tirnel said, standing up. "I'll be back." She went over to the food tables and returned with four muffins and a cup of tea.

"So, mellyn nîn, how was the patrol?" Iowen asked, accepting the muffin that Tirnel gave her.

"Fairly ordinary. Hallothneth was amazing," Nemirdir said, nibbling at his own muffin.

Hallothneth scoffed. "I nearly messed up everything up. It is only by Haldir's heroics and leniency that I sit here before you."

Iowen let her mind wander as the three Galadhrim soldiers discussed tactics and complained about Haldir's new guidelines, recalling the previous day and night.

 _Iowen had been sewing on her bed when a knock sounded at the door. She stood, puzzled, and opened it to reveal Helegon._

" _My lady, Hallothneth spoke of Raenil bothering you, so I thought I'd step in to protect you." He blushed. "I have taken a liking to you, Iowen," he stammered._

 _Touched, Iowen stepped back to allow him to enter the room. "I was just sewing, but I can teach you if you'd like."_

 _He smiled. "I usually have to see a seamstress if I damage my clothes. It would be useful to know how to do it myself. Not that I don't want to see a seamstress," he added quickly. "I do! Especially one so beautiful as yourself."_

 _Iowen giggled. "Stop it. You're flattering me."_

" _It's worth it to hear you laugh." An awkward silence fell over the flet._

 _Iowen, thinking that Helegon was probably a little tired after the trek up the stairs, said "Would you...like to come in?"_

 _Helegon flushed. "Yes. I can't really protect you if I'm sitting on the stairs. I mean, what if…" his mouth had suddenly gone quite dry. "...if Raenil was hiding...under the bed or something?" They both laughed, a little louder than normal._

" _Well," Iowen began. "Do you...want to come in now?"_

" _Alright." Helegon followed a secretly frantic Iowen into the flet. They took their seats, Helegon in a chair a good distance from the bed where Iowen sat, trying to sew without stabbing her fingers with anxiety._

 _After a few minutes, Iowen stood and pulled a chair next to Helegon. Grabbing her sewing basket, she placed the skirt she had been repairing in Helegon's lap and took a cloak out of the bag of clothes that needed to be mended._

" _It's easy." She put down the cloak as she noticed Helegon's fingers struggling to thread a needle. "Here." Her fingers brushed his as she took the needle and thread. He watched her as she put the end of the thread in her mouth and poked it through the eye of the needle. "See?"_

" _I see now." Helegon's voice dropped as he took the skirt, his hand landing and lingering on Iowen's. Iowen flushed and looked away, eyes downcast. "Wait," Helegon said, hand squeezing Iowen's gently. "I...I don't understand. Why are you pulling away? Is it something I've done?"_

" _No, it's not you, it's…" Iowen pulled her hand out of Helegon's light grip and tucked some hair behind the tip of her ear. "It's just...everyone who I've ever loved, or anyone who's loved me has died or sailed. I don't want to lose...anyone else. Hallothneth, she's got so much life left in her. I can't do that to her. Or to you…" her voice trailed off as she pulled her legs up underneath her._

 _A hand's weight appeared on her shoulder. She looked up into pale eyes, filled with a confused and pained mess. "...are you saying that you're afraid of losing me?"_

 _Iowen pulled her eyes away and felt a tear trace down her cheek. "Yes."_

 _Helegon chuckled. She looked up, startled. Smiling, he took her face in one of his hands and considered it. "Don't worry." He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I'm not going anywhere."_

"Hey! Iowen!" Jerking out of memory, Iowen looked up to see the other three elves looking at her. Tirnel had a hand on her shoulder. "You alright?"

"Yes," Iowen replied, sitting up a little straighter. "I'm fine. Ah, what were we talking about?"

The other three exchanged looks. "We were talking about the feast tonight," Helegon said, taking her hand. "Are you feeling alright?"

Iowen smiled and squeezed his hand. "I am perfectly fine, love." She picked up the muffin Tirnel had handed her. "What time shall our gallant escorts arrive at Hallothneth's flet?"

"Oh, please. It's as much my flet as yours now, i mâr nîn i mâr gîn," Tirnel said. "But yes, what time shall we expect you?"

Nemirdir tipped his face to the high ceiling, considering the question. "How about...half past six? That'll give you to time to prepare, and also time for the three of us to train. Haldir wanted us to help you with concealment," he added to Tirnel.

"Thanks a lot," she grumbled. "Come on, let's go to the field." Helegon stood and hugged Iowen, who seemed to fit in his arms like a knife in its sheath. Nemirdir followed Tirnel to the field, which was deserted.

"Hey, Hallothneth," he began. Tirnel froze, then clenched her right hand into a fist and leaned against the wall of the weapons shed.

"Don't call me that."

"But...it's your name, isn't it?"

"No. It's not. I haven't been completely honest with you, Nem." Tirnel slipped her hand into his and pulled him towards the door of the shed. He followed, bemused and a little hurt. "Sit down," she said, pulling a crate towards her. He found another and sat.

"What have you kept from me?" he asked, reaching for her hands. She took his hands and gazed at their entwined fingers.

"Only what I thought I should have kept from you." She sighed. "You're only the second person I've told this to," she began. "I am not Hallothneth. I am not an orphan. My mother was killed by the spiders of Mirkwood, it is true. My father, however…" she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "...is the Elvenking. I was cast from his halls with my mother, and we were attacked by spiders. Radagast arrived, but it was too late for my mother. Radagast raised me-" she stopped as Nemirdir gently squeezed her fingers.

"Haldir told us from here on. But why? I-I don't even know your name now. Who are you? Why did you hide this from everyone?"

Tirnel raised her eyes, and Nemirdir was shocked to see tears in them. "I couldn't tell anyone, Nem! Don't you see? If anyone found out my parentage, the Enemy would seek to capture me as leverage, and you'd fight to the last moment. You would fall. I can't let that happen. I can't let anything happen to you."

Nemirdir scooted his crate until their knees touched. "And what is your true name?" he asked, voice just above a whisper. "I'm sure it's beautiful. Like you."

Her tears fell as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "Tirnel. Stargazer."

"I was right," he breathed. He leaned closer to Tirnel, who felt her eyes flicker shut as their lips met.

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SAY IT WITH ME ONE MORE TIME: D'AWWWWWWWW! I wonder who was screaming at their screen for the past few chapters, " _just kiss already!"_ Forgot to tell you, but _italics_ can also denote recollection.

Na van ídhrog mened?: Where are we going?  
Tolo, govano ven!: Come, join us!  
i mâr nîn i mâr gîn: my home is your home


	15. Dueling and Protection

Repost of chapter fifteen!

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Dueling and Protection

At half-past eleven, Helegon, Tirnel, and Nemirdir trudged back up to the dining hall. All three of them were covered in dirt and leaves, but grinning broadly.

Iowen was just entering the hall as Helegon came up behind her and hugged her around the middle. She squealed and giggled as Helegon released her. Turning, she gasped at the filthy state of all three Galadhrim elves. "How did all of you get covered in dirt?"

Tirnel smiled grimly. "These two were trying to teach me to stay well-hidden, but they ended up knocking all three of us out of the tree and into the dirt. I don't know how Haldir expects me to learn from them."

Nemirdir tried to speak, but Iowen cut him off. "Go clean up, then I'll meet you down here. Now!"

The three elves, sufficiently scolded, trudged off to wash and change. "It was your fault," Helegon muttered to Nemirdir.

"Yet you were the one to scream like an elleth and pull me down with you," Nemirdir reminded him.

"And it was you who dragged Hallothneth along with us."

"Yes."

Tirnel arrived at her flet, panting from the long stairs. She drew a tub of cold water and washed, then dressed in a new tunic and leggings. She met Nemirdir and Helegon on the path back to the dining hall. They had washed and changed as well, but both still had leaves in their hair. Tirnel had just finished picking them out of Nemirdir's coppery tresses when they reached the dining hall where Iowen was waiting.

They took their seats at the Galadhrim's table, where Haldir and Uirwen were poring over a map. "Hello, Captain," Tirnel greeted Haldir cheerily, then turned back to her friends as he responded with a wave of his hand, not looking up from his map.

Tirnel and Nemirdir ate and chatted while Iowen picked the leaves from Helegon's hair, then left for the training fields again after they were done.

Bored by concealment practice, Tirnel challenged Helegon to a duel. He looked up warily from his place in a bush. "Are you sure?"

Tirnel stretched lazily along the branch of the tree she was in. "Yes. Now, are you ready to defend your honor?"

Helegon stood. Nemirdir was away at the weapons shed, so Tirnel dropped from the tree like a cat before Helegon. They both drew their swords.

Before Tirnel could get the feel of her opponent, he struck with the force of a falling tree. She twisted out of the way and swung at the back of his head, but he spun away. Facing each other again, she smiled.

"This is entertaining, Helegon," she said.

"Quite."

They charged again, Tirnel slashing at Helegon's sword-arm. Variele's blade clattered on his vambrace, sending a shock up his arm. "Nêg!" He stumbled back, shaking it out. "Now it's getting dirty," he growled. His arm was stinging, and he had not been beaten by one younger than him before. He did not plan to begin now.

He lunged, pinning her against a tree. But to his frustration, she had caught his blade on her own and was keeping it at bay with trembling arms.

"Good move," Tirnel commented, and Helegon was pleased to hear that her voice was strained with the effort of maintaining her safety.

"Going to give up yet?" he asked, jolting his sword slightly and messing up the balance of the two blades.

"No, I-" Her eyes widened as she saw something behind him. "Helegon, tirio!"

Helegon ducked and rolled out of the way as a hand landed on his shoulder. Nemirdir was standing behind him, holding a pair of knives and wearing an expression of betrayal and anger.

"It was a friendly duel!" Tirnel cried, grabbing his arm. "Stop, Nem, stop!"

He did, but he kept his eyes, which were full of blue fire, boring into Helegon's head as the other elf scrambled to his feet.

"It's alright, Nem. We're just sparring. Come on, let's go over here. Be right back," Tirnel added to Helegon, who nodded shakily. She took the arm of a glowering Nemirdir away to a nearby tree. "We were just sparring, Nem! That's all! There was no need-"

"In my mind, there was. Since you've told me, I've been feeling like I need to protect you more. You're, you know…" he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "a princess. Can't let anything happ-"

Tirnel shoved him away from her, eyes flaming. "Do NOT call me that! And please, Nem, let me protect myself. Focus on your own life. Then, if I'm in trouble, you can help me. Otherwise, please let me fend for myself." The fire died, and she stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. "I'm going back to the flet. Had enough training for one day." She waved to Helegon, who cast a slightly unnerved look to Nemirdir and scuttled off.

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Short chapter, but action packed! Nem is a little defensive, but wouldn't we all be if we saw our best friend beating up our significant other?

Tirio = look out!

Nêg! = Ow!


	16. Starlight, Roses, and Love

Repost of chapter sixteen!

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When Tirnel arrived at the flet, Iowen had spread dresses over every available surface. "Dare I ask what's happening?" she asked dryly.

Iowen looked up from the dresses on the bed. "No. And you're wearing dark purple tonight, no arguments."

"As if I could," Tirnel joked. A dark purple dress was draped over the back of a chair nearby, trimmed with gold thread. "What's your colour?"

Iowen pointed to a fawn-brown one, also with a little gold. "Helegon says my eyes are like pools of cocoa. He says he could drown in them." She smiled happily and pressed the dress to her face. "Smells like ginger."

Tirnel smiled too, then held the dress up to her body. Her eyes bugged out slightly as she noticed that it barely hit her knees, then dissolved into giggles. "Iowen," she choked. "I don't know what kind of feast this is…"

Iowen turned around and gasped in horror. "Oh no! I was so distracted I must have picked this up instead of a dress! And there's no time to run and get the real dress…"

"It's fine, Iowen. Purple's not really my color anyway." She set down the tunic and perused the other dresses that were still spread over the room. "Hey, how about this one?" She picked up a dress that was a deep blood-red.

Iowen turned. "Oh, that's much better!" she cried, dropping her own dress and picking up the red one. "I can't believe I didn't see it at once. Come on, try it on!"

Tirnel undressed and slipped the dress on, liking the way it hugged her upper body The skirt flared out around her legs, and she twirled happily. The neckline swooped down, but modestly. Tirnel liked the way it revealed her collar-bones and showed off the gold chain at her throat.

"You look like a princess!" Iowen gasped after the words left her lips and covered her mouth. Tirnel had stopped twirling and turned to face Iowen. "I'm sorry, Tirnel. A slip of the tongue, nothing more."

Tirnel smiled. "I understand. It's alright, no need to apologize. Now, let's see you in your dress!"

Iowen blushed. "Oh, no, you don't want to see me. You'll see later, at the feast!" But Tirnel begged her until she threw her hands up and said "Fine! Alright, but remember that I warned you!" She slipped out of her dress and pulled the brown one over her head.

Tirnel raised her eyebrows at the red patches on Iowen's skin but said nothing. She gasped, however as Iowen straightened the dress and turned to face her. "You look like a queen!" she cried, leaping up from her chair and examining Iowen's dress. "Why don't you dress in this colour more? It really brings out your eyes."

Iowen blushed furiously. "I look ridiculous."

"Well, you'll have to suffer this evening," Tirnel said sternly. They both dissolved into giggles and changed out of their dresses.

"Well, it's only half past two," Iowen said. "We've got a lot of time on our hands. I can braid your hair, or maybe I can teach you to braid."

Tirnel sat down on the dress-free portion of the bed. "No, let's just talk. I told Nemirdir about... IT, and he got all protective, like I was made of glass. I was dueling with Helegon and he tried to stop us, fearing for my safety. I just wish that I could tell him that I can fend for myself, and that if he wishes to protect me, that he would do it for his love, and not my status."

Iowen sat next to her distraught friend, placing an arm around her shoulders. "He will see. Just tell him tonight. There's a nice secluded balcony I know of; perhaps you can talk there." Tirnel considered this, then nodded. Iowen smiled and squeezed her friend's shoulder. "Now, what about your hair?"

Four and a half hours later, after Iowen described various hairstyles and Tirnel had described her preferences, they both bathed and changed, and Iowen set about braiding Tirnel's hair.

In the end, they both agreed on a fairly simple design. Iowen pulled strands from above Tirnel's ears and braided them back on both sides, fish-tailing it behind her head. The gold in Tirnel's hair glinted in the sunlight like the chain around her neck, threaded through the deep brown like bubbles in a stream.

"Now, Iowen, sit down. I'm going to braid your hair if it kills me!" Tirnel said after thanking Iowen profusely. "Radagast taught me to braid when we were making rope, and I think that your hair won't be too different."

"Are you saying that my hair's no better than rope fibres?" Iowen squealed, snatching her hair back from Tirnel's hands.

"Your hair's fine! Just let me try!"

"No!"

"Yes!" Tirnel shoved Iowen back into the chair and started winding her hair into a braid that only slightly resembled a rope. Iowen examined it critically when she finished.

"This is better than I expected," she admitted, fiddling with the end between her fingers. "But I'll do my own, thanks."

Tirnel's face fell. "Okay." Iowen grinned and patted Tirnel on the head, then braided her hair into elaborate strands. A knock sounded at the door as she finished, and both ellith jumped. Iowen stood and opened the door to see Nemirdir and Helegon, both in grey tunics with inlaid patterns of leaves.

When they saw the ellith, both ellyn bowed with hands to their breasts. "Good evening, my love," Helegon said to Iowen, who blushed and smiled. Nemirdir offered Tirnel a small smile, and she returned it.

Iowen took Helegon's outstretched arm and glanced to Tirnel, who took Nemirdir's arm. The four of them started down the long stairs as darkness fell, birds flying up to roost in the trees around them. A cool breeze swept through the mellyrn, making Iowen shiver. Helegon noticed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

The dining hall was lit up as bright as daylight as Helegon pulled the door open. Laughter and talk flowed like wine as Tirnel took her seat beside Nemirdir, eyes taking in as much as possible. It was her first experience with such a social gathering. A raised table held Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, both of whom were dressed in silvery white as usual.

The many smaller tables were filled with elves, all of whom were eating or laughing or talking, happily enjoying the feast. Tirnel's little table was gay enough, but she and Nemirdir didn't talk much. Tirnel was just thinking of asking Iowen where that balcony was when both Lord and Lady stood from their table and the hall fell silent.

"My friends," Lord Celeborn began, "Tonight is a night for joy and merriment, to forget the struggles of the old year as the Fading begins." He stepped back as Lady Galadriel spoke.

"You have all been so strong, even as the Darkness draws near," she said, her deep and melodic voice putting all those present at ease. "To all those who have kept our lands safe, thank you." Applause ran through the gathered elves, and the Lady smiled. "And I swear that the magical borders shall be kept strong, as long as Nenya endures." She held up a hand to show the silver Ring with the glowing white jewel. More applause filled the hall. Several elves stood and went over to a platform and picked up instruments as the Lord and Lady sat down once more.

Soft music began and elves started to get up and dance. Iowen and Helegon stood and wandered off onto the dance floor, but not before Iowen whispered instructions to Tirnel on how to find the balcony. Tirnel stood, making up her mind as she did so, and held a hand out to Nemirdir, who took it, looking apprehensive.

She led him to the right side of the hall and walked through an archway to a terrace on ground level, rather than a balcony. Light from the hall bled out onto the terrace, illuminating trellises that climbed the walls, coated thickly with multicolored roses, their scents mingling in the night breeze.

The two of them sat on a bench that was set before the railing at the terrace's edge. "Nemirdir," Tirnel began. "We should talk about what transpired today at the training fields."

Nemirdir looked up, eyes pained. "I am sorry for overreacting like that," he said, taking her hands in his. "I...I wanted to protect you."

"I know you did, Nem, but we were dueling. I challenged him because I was bored of concealment practice."

"Is it so wrong that I want to keep you safe?" Nemirdir's voice had dipped into a whisper.

Tirnel smiled and placed a finger under his chin. "No," she replied. "But remember that you should keep yourself safe, too. Someday, an elleth will be your wife, and perhaps you will have elflings. Remember that you have your whole life in front of you."

Nemirdir stood and began to pace. "I know, Tirnel, but I want to keep you safer than I want for myself. Your life means more than mine—"

Tirnel shot to her feet. "No, it doesn't, Nem! I'm the bastard daughter of a king, thrown from him because he couldn't stand the reminder of his weakness! You're the product of a beautiful relationship between two lovers, and I am a product of dark magic and trickery!" Nemirdir had stopped pacing and was smiling sadly. "Don't smile, I'm being completely serious!"

He shook his head. "Tirnel, I'm not saying that your life is worth more than mine because you're the illegitimate daughter of a king. I say it because I love you. Oh, Tirnel, I love you. I think I've loved you from that day in Mirkwood, when we helped you defeat those spiders. Watching you fight is like watching a fire; dangerous, unpredictable, wild, and beautiful. I say that you are worth more than me because I would fade if you died. I would sail, or I would take my own life to join you. Davo annin le meriad. Anthon 'ûr nîn angin."

Tirnel's eyes brimmed with tears as Nemirdir took her hands again, and the two of them stood by the railing, bathed in starlight. Words seemed to temporarily flee from her spinning head, driven out by Nemirdir's proclamation. Finding them again, she whispered "Oh, Nem, sevig i veleth nîn." She raised one of her hands and brushed his hair over his shoulder, then let her hand linger there. He placed his hands at her back, her hair tickling them. Music emanated from the hall as Tirnel's eyes closed again and she kissed Nemirdir. The stars glowed blue overhead, shining on the dew that sat upon the roses.

* * *

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME FOR THE FOLKS IN THE BACK: D'AWWWWWWWW! I love this couple so much. Review and tell me if you do too!

Davo annin le meriad. Anthon 'ûr nîn angin. = Let me protect you. I give you my heart.

Sevig i veleth nîn. = You have my love.


	17. Name Definitions

Hello again! Now, I know that this isn't a chapter, and sorry for that, but it has come to my attention that I have neglected name-defining. There are some on the Tumblr blog for this story, along with character descriptions(secrectdaughter1701), but here are some more.

Raenil: Twisted

Helegon: Ice

Uirwen: Eternity

Iowen: Corn

Nemirdir: Water-Gem

Losdir: Snow

There we go! If you need any more, message me or, if you're a guest, pop it into your review. Also...NEM&TIR FOR LIFE


	18. Haldir's Assessment

Repost of chapter eighteen!

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The Sun sent her rays peeking into the flet, revealing one elleth asleep in the flet. Birds woke her, swirling by and heralding the dawn. Tirnel sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes and stretching. Iowen had left with Helegon, leaving Nemirdir to walk Tirnel up to the flet, kiss her a final time, and then retreat back to his own flet for the night. Now, Tirnel stood and dressed, choosing a tunic the same color as the dress that she had worn the night before. Lacing up grey breeches, Tirnel giggled as she remembered how Nemirdir had swept her off her feet and spun around. She pulled her boots on, buckled Variele to her side, and left the flet.

Arriving at the dining hall, Tirnel headed for the Galadhrim's table. Haldir was sitting there, alone, gazing at some maps that he had spread out over the table. She stacked a few of them so she could put down her plate, then greeted Haldir respectfully. He glanced up, then smiled at her.

"Good morning, Hallothneth. I am glad to see you. I wanted to assess your skills again personally, as Marchwarden. I am considering giving you a higher place, but I would like you to prove to me that you deserve it."

Tirnel agreed, and finished eating as Haldir cleaned up his maps. They walked down to the fields, where Tirnel strapped her knives to her back while Haldir found his sword.

"Alright. Now, I'm going to attack you, and I want you to defend yourself. Pretend I'm an orc, except an orc wouldn't tell you it's going to attack you, it would just do it." He raised his sword, and she raised hers.

They stood in this waiting stance for a few minutes, until Tirnel began to feel twitchy. She had just opened her mouth to ask if he was going to attack or not, when Haldir struck.

Haldir swung at her. Tirnel's legs were swept out from underneath of her and she found herself on the ground.

Freeing his blade from under her body, Haldir swept it downwards at her face, barely giving her enough time to raise her own sword in defense. The two blades clashed, rattling Tirnel's bones. Haldir pressed harder, keeping her immobilized under the blades. She could feel her elbows locking and beginning to ache.

"How long should we retain this position, Captain?" she grunted, shifting slightly and nearly losing her grip on the sword.

"As long as it takes." Haldir pulled his sword away suddenly. Before she could compose herself, Haldir pulled her up by the neck of her tunic and slammed her against a tree.

Tirnel's head spun as it hit the trunk, but she smiled as the tree creaked in indignation and started whacking Haldir with its branches. "That's what you get for attacking a friend of the trees!" Tirnel said, sheathing her sword before rubbing the back of her head.

Haldir sheltered his head with his arms, backing away with his sword held loosely in one hand. Seeing an opportunity, Tirnel darted over and snatched the blade from his hand. She didn't get far, however, before she was tackled to the ground. Haldir's sword was ripped from her hand and she desperately drew her own to defend herself. Tirnel rolled over just in time, and Variele clashed against Haldir's blade, just inches from her face. With Haldir's blade pressed against her own, Tirnel shoved Haldir backwards with as much force as she could. When he did not waver, she pulled Variele away and pushed him again before he could recover from the lack of resistance. He stumbled, and Tirnel seized this chance to swing at his waist. He blocked her with a rather ungraceful yelp of pain, taking the blow on his vambrace. He recovered quickly, however, and she had to draw back as he swung his sword at her head. Dropping to the ground, Tirnel rolled between Haldir's legs and came up standing behind him. Haldir wheeled around, a smile curling his lips.

"I'm glad that I have a chance to test you," he said. Tirnel inclined her head.

"I am happy to have the opportunity to fight alongside you and the rest of the Galadhrim," she replied.

Haldir smiled.

Half an hour later, Tirnel had a cut on her forehead from a momentary lack of concentration and Haldir had a black eye from a well placed elbow, but both were still fighting stridently. The two of them had fought their way down to the riverbank, and now they slipped on mud and stumbled over stones as they kept sparring.

Tirnel was a little apprehensive about their proximity to the Celebrant, because her only real experience with rivers (besides Uirwen tossing her into the Celebrant) was the Enchanted River, which made her reactions slow and made her sink if she tried to swim in it. Radagast had fallen in once, and had slept for a week.

Now, as she was forced back, inch by inch, towards the roaring river, she began to panic. "Haldir!" she yelled, casting a nervous glance over her shoulder. "Can we take a short recess?"

"Giving up already, Hallothneth?" Haldir called over the noise of the water. He grinned broadly, thinking that he had at last found a way through her defenses.

"No! It's just—" Tirnel's foot slipped, and a yelp of terror interrupted her. Thankfully, her feet landed on solid ground again. She looked up the bank at Haldir. "Can we move from the river's edge?"

"Why, afraid of getting wet?" Haldir yelled, striking her blade hard as he jumped down to join her.

"No!" she panted as she stumbled backwards. I can't—" She screamed as her foot slipped again and she fell back into the rushing water. Her head appeared briefly before she went under again, just long enough for her to scream one word: "Swim!"

Haldir's heart dropped through his stomach and onto the riverbank. "Rhaich," he muttered, before leaping into the water and striking out for the spot where Tirnel had disappeared. "Hallothneth!" he shouted, treading water and looking around. He saw nothing besides rushing water and a few concerned elves on the shoreline. Pushing their confused calls out of his mind, he trained his eyes on the treacherous waters, desperately searching for a sign of his soldier.

A dark object bobbed near the shore, floating lifelessly on the edges of the current. Haldir felt his stomach twist as he frantically swam over to it. A few of the elves on shore had realised what had happened and were trying to help, one of them pulling the body of an elf from the waters. "No." Haldir felt his lips move as he ran up the shoreline and knelt by the motionless elf, but couldn't hear anything besides a faint whining in his ears. He barely registered the pain in his knees from kneeling on the pebbly shore; he only saw Hallothneth. Her hair was obscuring her face, and he brushed it away with shaking hands, noting that her lips were blue, her skin pale, and her eyes were closed. "No, no, no!" he muttered frantically. An elf pushed his way through the crowd that had gathered: it was Nemirdir. Haldir's heart sank through the ground.

"What happened?" Nemirdir cried, kneeling next to Hallothneth's head and pulling her up into a sitting position. Her head lolled.

"She fell in while we were sparring," Haldir said. He ignored the fact that he was still soaking wet. "We have to get her to Losdir. Hurry."

Nemirdir nodded grimly, then swept up Hallothneth in his arms and followed Haldir to the Healing Wards. One of the elves followed them, carrying Variele, which Hallothneth had held onto throughout her ordeal, but had dropped from her limp hands as Nemirdir had picked her up.

"What happened to her face?" Nemirdir asked as they walked, afraid to go faster for fear of hurting the unconscious elf in his arms.

"We were sparring, like I told you. She got in a good hit, right in my eye." Haldir winced as his eye twinged. Nemirdir didn't respond, but walked a little faster as the Healing Wards came into view.

"What's going on?" Losdir called, standing in the doorway to the Wards.

"It's Hallothneth. Help me get her inside!" Nemirdir called. Losdir muttered something unintelligible and held the door open for Haldir and Nemirdir to pass through. He pointed to a bed, which Nemirdir placed Tirnel in.

"What has happened?" Losdir asked, leaning over the unconscious elfling.

"She fell into the water, and seems drowned," Haldir said grimly.

"Not yet," Losdir said determinedly. He propped Tirnel into a sitting position and listening for her breath, biting his lip nervously as she was silent. "Well, actually…" He motioned for Haldir and Nemirdir to step back, then smacked Tirnel in the back quite hard. Nemirdir let out a cry of indignation, but Haldir held him back as Tirnel coughed and spat out quite a bit of water, her eyes flying open. Losdir handed her a cloth to clean herself up.

"Can—" Tirnel interrupted herself with another bout of coughing, and Nemirdir placed a hand on her shoulder. "Can someone teach me to swim so that this won't happen again?"

Losdir laughed. "I'm sure Nemirdir can help you, Hallothneth. He is a very good swimmer. If you feel any residual discomfort, do not hesitate to consult with me."

Tirnel smiled. "I will, Losdir, and thank you for saving my life."

"I would tell you that this honor fell to Haldir, but—"

"But I am afraid that it was my fault that you were in danger in the first place," Haldir said quietly.

Nemirdir's head whipped around, but realising that it was his Captain, he merely squeezed Tirnel's shoulder.

"I do not blame you, Haldir. I simply did not inform you about my inability to swim. Now that you know, perhaps you can teach me to survive in the water?" Tirnel asked, attempting to stand. Nemirdir stepped back and helped her to her feet. "Now, where is Variele? I am sure that I had it when I fell in…"

"Here," Nemirdir said, holding out the sword that an elf had slipped him. She took it and sheathed it.

"Thank you, Nem. Now, I believe I am done with training for the day. Will you accompany me?" Nemirdir nodded, taking her arm and leaving the Wards. Haldir stepped aside and seemed on the verge of opening his mouth, but Tirnel held up a hand. "I tell you again, Marchwarden. An apology is not necessary." Haldir nodded and watched them leave.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Nemirdir muttered, letting Tirnel lean on his arm as they crossed the field in front of the Healing Wards.

"Yes, Nem. I'm fine." Tirnel coughed again, then breathed deeply and kissed him on the cheek. "I know you are protective, and I appreciate this now."

"I also would not want to lose you merely a day after I confess my love to you," he said. She fell silent and let him support her to the base of her tree.

"Thank you, Nem, for getting me back here. I'll come back down here after I've changed and we'll get some food in the dining hall, how about that?"

"That sounds fine." Nemirdir but his lip, then burst out "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Of course I am. I'll meet you down here in a few minutes, Nem," she said, then turned and ascended the stairs.

Iowen was waiting in the flet, having been repairing an undergarment but had seen Tirnel on the stairs. "Well? Are you going to tell me why you are soaking wet?"

Tirnel took a seat, knees still wobbly. "I almost drowned, if not for Haldir."

"What? You almost drowned? How and why?"

"Because I can't swim and Haldir accidentally made me fall in." Tirnel squeezed a bit of water out of her hair, letting it fall on the floor.

"So Haldir rescued you from the waters of the Celebrant, and carried you to the Healing Wards as you stood on the cusp of death. So where was Nemirdir during all of this?" Iowen asked, leaning against the end of the bed.

"Ah…" Tirnel lifted her eyes to the ceiling. "I think it was Nemirdir who carried me there, and Haldir who rescued me. Losdir is who I really have to thank, I suppose. He was the one who revived me." She stood and took a dry set of clothes from the wardrobe and seated herself once more to remove her boots. They landed one on top of the other, both with a _squelch._

Iowen helped her remove her outer tunic, which stuck, still wet to Tirnel's back, then her shirt. Both dripped as Iowen laid them over the edge of the windowsill, and Iowen heard the bathroom door close.

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Wow! That was a suspenseful chapter. It gets worse, I promise you.

Rhaich = Curses/Oh shit


	19. Swimming Lessons

Repost of chapter nineteen!

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Over the next few weeks, Tirnel found herself settling more and more into a life at Caras Galadhon. She woke and bathed, dressing in the clothes of the Galadhrim, then made her way to the dining hall, where she met others from the Galadhrim, usually Nemirdir, who would kiss her before the two of them entered and ate their breakfast. Haldir took all the soldiers that were not on patrol down to the fields, teaching them new techniques that he had read about or invented. Tirnel had been on several patrols since her disastrous first, and was now considered to be one of the more quiet and sneaky elves of the scout division.

Haldir had bumped her up in the ranks, but only slightly. No one doubted his decision, and all were cheered by her positive attitude. She had succeeded in sneaking up on Haldir, something only a few had had accomplished since Thiadir had died. A small party was hosted on a terrace off of the dining hall on the night Tirnel had been promoted, with both Uirwen and Haldir in attendance, if the latter was only there for a few minutes to offer his congratulations.

A few days after the party, Nemirdir took Tirnel to a small hollow off the Celebrant, calm enough for swimming. "Take your outer tunic off, and your boots," he said, removing his own. She did, piling them at the base of a tree with her weapons on top. He did the same, then extended a hand to her. She took it, apprehensive, and stepped into the cool, clear waters. "Do you trust me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course I trust you, Nem. As long as I don't drown, I should think you are a sufficient teacher. Anyway, Losdir said you were good."

Nemirdir smiled and splashed a little water at her. She squealed in indignation and splashed him right back. "Okay, okay, stop! We need to keep you from drowning. Can we get on with the lesson?" Nemirdir pleaded. His plain white shirt had become soaked through, and his hair hung damp around his shoulders. Tirnel laughed. She was just as soaked as he was, and they both blushed as they glanced at each other.

"Okay, Nem," she said, sloshing over to him through the knee-deep water. "What are we to learn today?"

"First, let's go in deeper," he said, leading the way into water that reached up to his hips. Tirnel followed, finding that the water covered half of her torso. "Now, try to float."

She did, relaxing upon the water so that she was flat on her back and floating. She closed her eyes and heard the rushing of the main river, felt a cool breeze chill her face, and smelled the clean autumn air, as well as a scent she recognised, pine and woodsmoke. It reminded her of copper-coloured hair and kind words, and a kiss beneath the moon, surrounded by roses.

"Can you try to swim?" Nemirdir's voice floated into her mind, prompting her to sit up in the water. She felt her feet hit the riverbed. "Just try to float on your stomach, then we'll go from there." Nemirdir stood back as Tirnel rolled her eyes again, then took a breath to hold as she laid herself face-first in the water. She floated on the surface like a leaf for a moment, then stood again, spluttering.

"Like that?" she asked, tossing her wet hair behind her shoulders.

"Yes, like that. Now, when you do that again, kick your feet to propel yourself forwards."

Tirnel obligingly put her face back into the water, then did as Nemirdir instructed. "You know, Nem, we don't have to start completely from scratch. I have swum before, if only in an enchanted river," she said, blinking water out of her eyes.

Nemirdir smiled. "But we will still go over the basics, just so you know how to swim in an unenchanted river." She sighed and waited for his next command.

After an hour, she was able to dive and retrieve something from the floor of the pool, swim underwater like a fish, and race Nemirdir to the edge of the hollow and out into the river. She lost, but it was a vast improvement. Both elves could be seen, trudging up the shore in soaked white shirts and carrying their outer tunics and boots. Tirnel had re-buckled Variele to her side and strapped her knives to her back, but Nemirdir didn't bother.

They wandered over to the dining hall, where Tirnel caught Nemirdir by the arm and made him put his tunic on. She followed suit, and both sat to pull on their boots. "So, should I continue to teach you to swim, or do you think you've got enough to go on?" he asked, brushing dried mud off the sole of his foot before pulling the boot on.

"I think you'll need to continue the lessons, lest I drown," Tirnel answered. A particularly stubborn pebble had lodged itself in the toe of her boot, forcing her to remove the boot to remove it.

"We'll resume next week. Haldir wants you on the next patrol, which leaves tomorrow and doesn't return till Tuesday." Nemirdir stood and offered a hand to Tirnel, who took it and followed him into the hall.

"Are you coming too?" Tirnel asked. They filled up plates and sat at the Galadhrim's table.

"I think so. I'll ask Haldir, but the swords need to be cared for, as do all the weapons." Nemirdir took a bite of his food. "Haldir trusts me with all the weapons, as implicitly as he does with Angrenor, whose father was the blacksmith. I believe that I will stay and help."

Tirnel stuck her lip out in a mock-pout, nudging her friend's shoulder with one hand. "Fine. Stay and get covered in ash and soot, and I won't kiss you for a month."

Both laughed as the rest of the elves filed in. Haldir looked a little grim. "Sit," he said. The Galadhrim sat, twenty faces upturned to their captain. "Listen." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I have been instructed by the Lady to bring all of the Galadhrim, you, on this next patrol. She will have seen something. I will do as she said, and you will all arm yourselves as usual. I wouldn't mind a few extra knives here and there," he added, glancing around. "I'll see you all at the guardhouse tomorrow morning." He left, Uirwen standing quickly to accompany him.

Nemirdir turned and looked at Tirnel. "I guess I won't be getting covered in soot."

Tirnel laughed and pecked him on the cheek. "Scoundrel."

Helegon tapped Nemirdir on the shoulder. "What do you think that was about?" he asked. He seemed vaguely concerned.

"The Lady might have seen a particularly large party of Orcs moving towards us," Nemirdir replied. Helegon nodded thoughtfully. Tirnel stood, having finished her food, and left the hall, Helegon having gotten Nemirdir into a discussion about what the patrol could hold.

She had no particular mind of which way to go, so she wandered back to her tree. Iowen was not there, so she flopped down on the bed. Before she realized it, she had fallen asleep. Jerking herself upright, she saw the Sun setting outside her window. Groaning, she turned to see a laughing Iowen sitting in a chair, mending a cloak. Nemirdir was leaning on the doorframe, a smirk playing about his lips.

"I was worried about you," he said, trying to keep the mirth from his voice. "But now I see you had no such cares for me. You came here and slept until the Sun pulled her face from the sky, and now you awaken?"

"It was not my intent!" she cried. Nemirdir laughed. Iowen tried to maintain a neutral expression, but was failing miserably. "Oh, go on. You knew I didn't mean to!" Tirnel said again, standing and shoving Nemirdir's shoulder.

"Yes, I do, but it is still quite funny to accuse you, if only in jest." He took her hand and kissed the back of it.

Tirnel pulled her hand away, sticking her tongue out at him. He returned the childish gesture as Helegon appeared behind him. The soldier was holding a satchel, which he passed to Nemirdir as he sat on the arm of Iowen's chair, placing a kiss on the handmaiden's cheek.

Nemirdir opened it and tossed an apple to Tirnel, who caught it with a shocked look. "Helegon, did you bring us all food?"

The soldier winked. "The Galadhrim must be well-rested and alert for our important patrol tomorrow. Eat up, and don't bother to thank me."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Thank you, Helegon. I shall be forever grateful."

"That's better." Helegon kissed Iowen again, who giggled and took a pear from him. Nemirdir took a seat on the bed next to Tirnel, who kissed him on the cheek and leaned against his shoulder.

The flet was quiet for a while, as all four elves ate. Iowen finished, thanked Helegon, and continued sewing. Tirnel ate half of her apple, then gave the rest to Nemirdir.

"I can't eat right now. I'm too nervous about tomorrow."

"It will be fine," he assured her, placing a kiss on her forehead. She smiled, then stood as Iowen placed a kiss on Helegon's lips. "Now, Iowen, Helegon has to be at the guardhouse in the morning."

Iowen broke the kiss and glanced at Nemirdir. "He will be the one to keep himself up, not I, Nemirdir." She squealed and giggled as Helegon nuzzled her hair.

Nemirdir rolled his eyes. "Fine. Stay up all night, if you like. Just don't blame me if you fall asleep in the middle of combat."

Tirnel giggled. Iowen flushed and pushed Helegon to his feet. He feigned a hurt expression, then sighed. "I suppose cannot fall asleep on patrol. Haldir would feed me to a spider." He kissed Iowen a final time and departed, waving to Tirnel and Nemirdir. Nemirdir kissed Tirnel, who hugged him and watched him leave.

Iowen placed the cloak back in her basket, then reached for her nightgown. "You need sleep too, mellon nîn. You have to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow, and possibly facing death. Who knows what the Lady saw? You have to be prepared."

Tirnel nodded. She too grabbed her nightdress, and changed in the bathroom. Iowen was already asleep in the bed when she returned, so Tirnel headed for her makeshift bed. She lay down, catching sight as she did so of two metal hooks in the ceiling. She stood, an idea starting in her mind.

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Ooh, what's going to happen? Review and tell me what you think is going to happen!


	20. A Daunting Patrol

Repost of chapter twenty!

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At dawn the next morning, Iowen woke to the door clicking shut. A hammock hung before the window, swinging gently in the breeze.

Tirnel arrived at the guardhouse, nervous as a butterfly. All of the Galadhrim, some twenty-five elves, were suiting up and strapping their weapons to their backs and sides. She saw more than a few knives strapped to thighs and biceps, and one elf with knives down her boots. Uirwen was calling them all to order as Tirnel finished up, and Haldir entered the room. All of the soldiers fell silent.

"We're going in a few minutes. Make sure you've got everything." Haldir left again, his own bedroll strapped to his back. Uirwen tossed blankets to those without, and Tirnel caught one. Nemirdir helped her strap it to her back, and he followed her out of the armoury.

Iowen watched from the base of the stairs as the Galadhrim headed for the border. Her three friends waved to her as they passed, Helegon throwing a kiss. She smiled and returned the gesture. Haldir sent Helegon an irritated glare and barked an incoherent order to him. Helegon saluted and turned back to the front, casting a wink quickly to Iowen. She smiled again and watched the soldiers retreat out of her line of sight.

The Celebrant was high and cold, and Tirnel's breath came short as she waded through it. It pulled at her as she struggled to keep up with the other soldiers. When they reached the other shore, the elves shook themselves off and continued on.

The rest of the day passed amicably, with no conflicts beside the odd orc passing, and it was quickly shot down or decapitated. Haldir called for the soldiers to lay their bedrolls in the closest guard flet. They ate a small meal, then built a fire and began shifts of watch.

Tirnel drew a short straw, as did Nemirdir(in fact, he traded another elf for her short straw so as to stay with Tirnel), so they sat around the fire and watched the surrounding forest. It was silent but for the soft, deep breathing of their fellows, the crackling of the fire, and the occasional cricket.

Nemirdir stretched out, eyes searching for the stars through the thick foliage. "Tirnel."

"Mmm?"

"What do you think is coming?"

"As in, what will we meet on the patrol? Or what our lives hold?"  
"...Both."

"Well, I think that we'll meet a combination of orcs and spiders, which we will have to fight, and in life? I think that I will journey to Mirkwood to meet my father."

Nemirdir shifted onto his side, gazing at Tirnel, whose eyes were fixed on the distant stars. "Where do I fit in?"

She looked over. He smiled sheepishly. "Right here," she said, moving to his side. He threw an arm around her and kissed her forehead.

An hour later, Ningannel and Calardan rose to continue the watch. Nemirdir placed another kiss on Tirnel's forehead, then returned to his own bedroll. She fell asleep soon, listening to the whispering of the other two soldiers and the fire.

She woke with the Sun the next morning, to find Haldir and Uirwen returning with the head of an orc and several spider's legs.

"Well, someone was busy last night," she commented wryly. Uirwen smiled.

"Yes, Hallothneth. There was a small company of orcs with one large spider. Haldir and I managed to dispatch them all, and not wake any of you." She tossed the legs to the floor, and Haldir dropped the orc's head with an expression of disgust on his face.

"Get the others up. We have to move on." He leapt straight up into the branches of a nearby tree. A few leaves fluttered to the floor as Tirnel glanced confusedly to Uirwen, who shrugged.

"He seems a little tense, but he'll be fine. I'll help you wake them," Uirwen assured the younger elf. Together, they roused the other elves and made a small breakfast until Haldir returned. He did so with a slightly more pleasant demeanor, and led the others down to the forest floor.

"We have to be quiet," he warned. "More orcs could be in the underbrush. Spiders in the trees. They've begun building their horrid webs, which I took care of, but they return faster than I can take them out. Come on."

He gave out whistled commands, sounding for all the world like a bird perched in one of the trees. Elves peeled off in the directions he pointed in, until there were only a few left with him, Tirnel among them. He pointed up into the tree above him, motioning for Tirnel and Uirwen to ascend. They did, jarring loose a few leaves as they shimmied out along various limbs to get a view of the ground.

Tirnel wrinkled her nose as the stench of orcs hit her. They were clustered around a large fire, some roasting a deer on a spit, others sitting on a fallen tree. She could hear the tree she clung to moaning for the loss of its friend. Haldir trilled again from the ground, signalling for a retreat. Tirnel frowned and glanced at Uirwen, who looked equally puzzled. Releasing the branch that she held, the lieutenant put her fingers in her mouth and whistled back to the Marchwarden: _Why do we retreat?_

 _Too many of them,_ came the reply. _Need to regroup._ Uirwen shrugged and slid out of the tree. Tirnel followed, unconvinced that the orcs were impregnable. She heard a crack above her head and looked up in time to see a spider crawling through the branches above her head. Stifling a shriek, she tugged on Uirwen's cloak. The lieutenant glanced up, her eyes bugging out when she realized what she saw. They both ducked under the ferns surrounding them.

"How are there so many?" Tirnel hissed, watching more fill the branches. "They're never that quiet!"

Uirwen shook her head and pressed a finger to her lips. One stopped and looked around, hissing in confusion. The elves held still and waited for it to leave. Finally, the spider scuttled off, letting the two run back to Haldir. He nodded as they related their sighting of the massive beasts, then whistled for a retreat to the nearest flet. When they reached it, Uirwen picked up a splintered board, warbling a warning to Haldir. He had nearly been tripped up by the rope ladder, which lay tangled on the ground. Lifting a hand, Haldir sent an elf by the name of Tavordaer into the neighboring tree to investigate. He returned quickly, pale and shaking. He related that the spiders had destroyed the flet, reducing it to cracked planks and cobwebs. There was a nest of spiders that were residing there now.

"No matter," Haldir hissed. "On to the next." The Galadhrim crept away, arriving soon at the next flet. The ladder was slashed to pieces, but that was no problem to the elves. They scrambled up through the branches, arriving on a cobweb-strewn but otherwise intact flet. Haldir set two or three elves to work with the fire, and another few to clear the webs away. Uirwen leapt to the ground and returned with an armload of wood. She dropped it next to the elves charged with making the fire and sat down beside them. Nemirdir tossed a large bundle of spider's web over the side of the flet and sat beside Tirnel.

Haldir paced along the edge of the flet, hands clasped behind his back. He seemed furious and had a look on his face that scorch metal. Uirwen caught him by the leg and pulled him down to sit by her. He did, and glowered into the heart of the small fire. Tirnel could have sworn it quailed away from his glare. "I cannot abide by these foul creatures living in our wood!" he burst out suddenly. Uirwen hushed him, glancing over the edge of the flet for orcs and up into the trees for spiders. "We cannot hide and cower, while these creatures overrun us! I have changed my mind. We will fight to purge our land of these beasts. In the morning, we will attack."

Uirwen hushed him again and agreed. "This is disgusting. It has always been Mirkwood that holds these creatures. No offense, Hallothneth. The fact that they have moved south is worrying." Tirnel grimaced but otherwise did not acknowledge this mention of her homeland. "We will go at dawn to cleanse our lands," Uirwen went on, speaking to Haldir but in such a way that everyone heard her. "But in the meantime, rest, Captain. I feel that tomorrow will be quite wearing on you." She placed a hand behind Haldir's head and kissed his forehead, then took a long stick and poked the fire. Haldir grunted discontentedly and lay back on his bedroll. Uirwen lifted his head and shifted her legs underneath it, than lay back on her elbows. They took first watch as the rest of the Galadhrim drifted off to sleep.

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Uirwen is so affectionate. She's like everyone's murderous aunt. Review! Tell me what you think is gonna happen! Also, there's a new language guide coming up next!


	21. New Language Guide for My Lovely Readers

Here is your new Language Chart, to be used from here out.

 _This is Sindarin._

 **I am thinking.** Or: _**I am thinking.**_

I am speaking the Common Tongue.

I will notify you if things change on me. So, until next time, my dear friends.


	22. Strange Travelers

Repost of chapter twenty-two!

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Haldir roused the elves at dawn. The fire was no more than a pile of smoking ash, and he had a disquieted look about him. " _Up, hurry!"_ he said as he prodded Tirnel in the shoulder. Once all of the Galadhrim stood at attention, he began to pace. " _Lady Galadriel appeared to me in a dream last night. She tells me there are strange intruders who are to arrive soon. We are to not harm them, but bring them to her immediately. Are we understood?"_ The elves nodded, and Haldir did too. " _There is one last thing,"_ he added. " _She tells me that there is a dwarf among them."_ Noises of irritation came from many of the elves, but Haldir raised a hand. " _I know. I am reluctant to let him pass, but it will be as the Lady ordered."_

The elves still grumbled as they descended from the flet. " _A dwarf, to enter the Golden Wood?"_ Nemirdir said to Tirnel. " _Unheard of. They are so boorish and dirty, nearly as bad as orcs."_

" _Some of them aren't that bad,"_ Tirnel said, thinking of the tales of Thorin Oakenshield that Radagast had told her. " _Some are only lost."_

Nemirdir snorted. " _Well, if any more dare to stray here, then indeed, they will be lost."_

Tirnel thumped his shoulder. " _Come on, Nem. They are creatures, as you and I are. Have they not the right to live? I am sure that if you were to stray into Erebor or Moria, you would be released."_

He scoffed. " _As if I would go there. Yeuchh."_

Tirnel rolled her eyes.

Haldir gave a sharp hiss, which made Tirnel's head whip around and a blush creep up her face. " _Tirnel, ego!"_ he snapped. She nodded and slipped ahead.

She was walking ahead of the Galadhrim, making less sound than the wind. Haldir, stopping suddenly, made a trilling noise like a bird. Tirnel looked back and he motioned for her to come back. She did, drawing her sword and looking around warily. " _What is it? Is it them?"_

" _Yes,"_ Haldir breathed. The others drew their bows and nocked arrows. " _Surround that clearing. We will ambush them."_

A loud voice was speaking through the trees: "Stay close, young hobbits. They say that a great sorceress livs in these woods, an elf witch of terrible power."

Tirnel wanted to attack the speaker at once for dishonoring the Lady, but Haldir held up a hand in warning.

The speaker continued: "All who look upon her fall under her spell, and are never seen again."

A small voice said, seeming worried, "Mr. Frodo?"

The first speaker snorted, "Well, here's one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily! I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox!" He broke off suddenly, though, as two arrowheads appeared before his nose.

The intruders were soon surrounded, giving Tirnel a chance to look at them all. There were four small creatures who must have been Halflings, two men, a tall elf with a strangely familiar face whose arrow was met with many more, and the dwarf. One of the men raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. Haldir, seeming not able to resist himself, stepped out from beside Tirnel where she stood, sword's point an inch from a Halfling's nose. "The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark," he said, smirking. The dwarf growled but otherwise ignored this.

The Galadhrim led the intruders to their guardhouse, where they were to wait. Haldir walked over to the elf, Tirnel standing by in case the dwarf caused any trouble. Haldir placed a hand to his breast in a gesture of respect. " _Welcome Legolas, son of Thranduil."_

Tirnel's eyes widened in shock. " _Thranduil?"_ She hadn't spoken loud enough for the elf to hear her, but Haldir shot her a confused look.

" _Our fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lórien,"_ the prince said. He and the others looked tired and grimy, and all of them seemed to be close to falling where they stood.

Haldir turned his head to the dark-haired man. " _Ah, Aragorn of the Dunedain. You are known to us."_

The man repeated the gesture of respect, one hand held to his breast. Tirnel felt an itch of familiarity at the back of her mind. The dwarf, who had removed his helmet, grumbled loudly. "So much for the legendary courtesy of the elves. Speak words we can all understand!"

Tirnel held back a snarl as Haldir turned to face the bearded little creature. "We have not had dealings with dwarves since the dark days," he said, distaste noticeable in each syllable.

"And you know what this dwarf says to that?" the dwarf growled, then spat out some Dwarvish. Tirnel, who had learned a bit of Dwarvish from Radagast, flushed with anger at the insult.

The dark-haired man, Aragorn, struck the dwarf's shoulder. "That was not so courteous."

Haldir turned away, examining the other travellers. He stopped before a Halfling, the only one with dark hair. Haldir looked as though he had seen a ghost. "You bring great evil here," he breathed. Turning quickly away, he spat "You can go no further." Aragorn followed Haldir and began conversing quickly and quietly in Sindarin. Tirnel couldn't catch the words, and turned to face Nemirdir. He was watching the strange group, all of whom cast glances to the dark-haired Halfling. The other man was talking softly to him in the Common Tongue, but Tirnel paid it no mind. " _Nem, I'm sure that elf is my brother,"_ she whispered. He glanced to the tall elf who was staring out over the trees and nodded.

" _A slight resemblance,"_ he muttered back.

Haldir stepped forward. "You will follow me," he snapped, and led the way.

They travelled back to the borders, where Haldir stopped, Aragorn and the prince by his side. "Caras Galadhon. The heart of Elvendom on Middle-earth, and the realm of Lord Celeborn, and of Galadriel, Lady of Light."

Tirnel smirked as the travellers gaped around. Nemirdir nudged her shoulder. " _Don't laugh,"_ he muttered. " _You looked like that too."_

Haldir led them through the city, gaining many curious stares. Iowen peeked out of the window of Tirnel's flet, watching the strange procession arrive before the Lord and Lady. Haldir stopped before their thrones, sending away the remainder of the Galadhrim. Tirnel had just turned to follow Nemirdir, when Galadriel's deep voice spoke in her mind: " **Not you, Stargazer. I wish to speak with you and your brother."** Tirnel nodded and returned to stand at the base of the stairs that led to the the thrones, down which the Lord and Lady were descending.

Celeborn spoke, his face seeming troubled as he gazed at the group: "The Enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone." His expression changed to one of puzzlement. "Eight there are here, yet nine there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? for I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."

Galadriel was inspecting the travellers before her, and her face changed to show a mix of horror and grief."He has fallen into shadow." Celeborn glanced to his wife as Aragorn nodded solemnly.

The prince spoke. "He was taken by both shadow and flame. A Balrog of Morgoth, for we went needlessly into the net of Moria." The dwarf lowered his head, not even noticing the slight on his land.

"Needless were none of the deeds in Gandalf's life," Galadriel said. "We do not yet know his full purpose." Her gaze shifted to the dwarf. "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Gloin. For the world has grown full of peril, and in all lands, love is now mingled with grief." She turned to gaze at the other man, who fidgeted, breaking eye contact quickly, his breath coming short.

"What now becomes of this fellowship?" Celeborn asked gravely, casting a wary eye over the travellers. "Without Gandalf, hope is lost."

"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife," Galadriel stated. "Stray but a little, and it will fail to the ruin of all." She glanced at the Halflings, a smile spreading across her face. "But hope remains while the company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled," she continued, "go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep in peace." Haldir stepped forward and led the group away, but the prince stopped and turned back to face Lady Galadriel with an inquisitive expression on his face. Celeborn nodded to the prince who placed a hand to his breast in a gesture of respect.

" _How fares your father, my prince?"_ Celeborn asked.

" _He is well, yet he regrets to say that he cannot leave the kingdom. He would like to see the Golden Wood again, but he is plagued with spiders and other creatures at the moment,"_ the prince responded. Celeborn nodded again and turned around to leave. His wife kissed his cheek, then approached. Prince Legolas bowed again to her, and the two of them stared at each other for a minute or two or a year. Tirnel fidgeted as the Lady turned to her.

" **He has been told that you wish to speak to him. Nothing more."** She stepped back as Legolas turned to face her. _**Oh Valar**_ _,_ Tirnel thought. _**I am not ready.**_

" _The Lady has informed me that you wish to speak to me. May I ask what about?"_ he asked, a small smile playing about his features, so like his father's.

" _Yes,"_ Tirnel began, palms sweating. " _I wish to speak with you about your father."_ She continued as the prince looked confused. " _You are not his only child."_ _ **Oh Valar. That was wrong.**_ " _I mean no disrespect,"_ she hurried on as Legolas looked affronted. " _It was not his intent to produce another child. This elleth tricked him with the aid of dark magic, and he was not in control of himself. He is not to blame."_

Galadriel stepped forward, looking slightly concerned as Legolas approached Tirnel with an incredulous expression on his face. Tirnel could feel waves of anger flowing of of the prince and hitting her in the face.

Legolas was ready to run this elfling through for even suggesting his father was unfaithful, but Galadriel spoke in his mind. " **Stay your anger, Greenleaf. She is not to blame."** He drew up short, grinding his teeth and faced the Lady.

" **My Lady, this is ridiculous. How can you allow her to tell such...such lies in your presence?"** He glanced at the girl, seeing now certain similarities to his father in the determination of her gaze and her stature.

" **They are not lies. But why do you direct your anger to her? If you were to direct it to anyone, you would direct it to her mother, who is dead. Try to realize that she is your half-sister, a deadly warrior who would be vital to your quest."** Galadriel gave him one last imperious look before sweeping away.

The girl stood as still as the trees, fear flickering in her gold eyes. He did not soften his expression, but he did feel a little guilt from scaring her. " _What is your name?"_ he asked.

She stood a little straighter and stared him straight in his eyes. " _My name given to me by my mother and the one I share with ones whom I hold close, or the name I give to strangers?"_

He caught the note of sarcasm and smiled appraisingly. " _Your given one. I do not wish to be a stranger."_

She smirked. " _I feel that this could be an auspicious beginning, hir-nîn,"_ she replied. " _It is Tirnel. Stargazer."_

Legolas nodded. " _Would you like to meet the others who travel with me?"_

" _Perhaps tomorrow, gwanor nîn. I am sure you and your companions are greatly tired."_ She bowed politely and turned to go, but he placed a hand on her shoulder. She faced him, and he gripped her forearm. She stiffened, but reciprocated.

" _I have been curious as to how it would be if I had siblings,"_ he said.

" _I have been curious as to how it would have been if I had a mother,"_ Tirnel said simply, then left.

Legolas shook his head and followed an elf who had appeared to bring him to his companions. She handed him a pitcher to wash up with as he removed his jerkin and draped it over his arm. His pale blue tunic glimmered in the light of blueish lamps as he passed them, and he caught the elf beside him looking quickly away and blushing.

Mournful singing echoed through the darkening trees, making Legolas return to his confused grief. "A lament for Gandalf," he realised, seeing the two younger Halflings exiting a nearby tent. Aragorn looked up from sharpening his sword.

"What do they have to say about him?" asked Merry.

"I have not the heart to tell you," Legolas replied. "For me, the grief is still too near."

"I bet they don't mention his fireworks," Sam muttered. "There should be a verse about them." He seemed to have been hit by a flash of insight as he stood from where he had been making up a bed. "The finest rockets ever seen, they burst in stars of blue and green." The others looked up, curious. Aragorn thumped a snoring Gimli on the shoulder to wake him. "For after thunder, silver showers came falling like a rain of flowers. Oh, it doesn't do any justice by 'em," he finished, trailing off into frustrated mutters.

Legolas smiled. He walked over to where Aragorn sat, careful not to trip over roots or onto bedrolls. " _Why did you remain?"_ the Ranger muttered.

The elf sighed. " _She introduced me to an elleth."_

Aragorn cast him an incredulous smile, dropping the whetstone. " _Lady Galadriel attempted to find you a mate?"_

Legolas scowled. " _No. This elleth is my half-sister."_ Aragorn looked twice as shocked, and this time dropped his blade.

" _How?"_ the man choked, scrambling to pick up both things before they got lost among the roots.

The prince's scowl deepened. " _I do not know,"_ he muttered. " _I will have to ask her tomorrow."_

" _Tomorrow?"_ Aragorn tucked away the whetstone and sheathed his sword. " _Has she come to gape at the oddity of our fellowship?"_ He had a bitter note in his voice as he stood and walked towards a small clearing where Boromir sat.

" _No. The Lady suggested that she may be useful. She tells me that Tirnel is a deadly warrior."_ Legolas let his friend keep walking and turned to his own bedroll.

* * *

The Fellowship has arrived! Drop a line and tell me if you think they're being represented well.


	23. Inquiries and Acquaintances

Repost of chapter twenty-three!

* * *

Tirnel, once out of sight of her half-brother, broke into a sprint. She had barely gone ten paces when she collided with Nemirdir. They tumbled to the ground, Tirnel landing on Nemirdir's chest. He groaned as his head hit the ground. " _Oh, Nem! I'm sorry, I didn't see you."_

He sat up, rubbing his neck. " _Quite alright, love. What did the prince have to say?"_

" _He acknowledged me as his sister, and offered to introduce me to the rest of the travellers,"_ Tirnel said, pulling Nemirdir to his feet, " _but I declined and said I would meet them tomorrow."_

Nemirdir placed her hand in his elbow and turned towards the dining hall. " _Until then, come to dinner. We have had a long day. Iowen is waiting eagerly for an explanation as to who these travellers are."_

They arrived at the dining hall where the recently returned Galadhrim soldiers were mobbed by the other elves, all of whom were asking questions about the strange intruders.

" _What are they like, the men?"_ one elleth asked, leaning towards Tirnel. " _Are they like the dwarves, or are they more like us?"_

" _They are an approximately equal mix,"_ Tirnel answered, arriving at the Galadhrim's table and sitting beside Iowen. " _They are almost like us, but just as filthy as the dwarves."_ The elves laughed, then went off to pester an elleth that claimed to have waited upon the prince.

" _Well?"_ Nemirdir asked. " _What are they like?"_

Tirnel took his hands across the table, smiling happily. " _They're fascinating! I've never met dwarves or men or Halflings before. I have only ever met elves or wizards."_

Nemirdir laughed. He was enjoying watching Tirnel's excitement. Her eyes lit up and sparkled like the chain at her throat as she wound her fingers through it, restless even when she was off-duty. She was still so much an elfling, but too wise for her years. She had endured so many hardships so early in life. She did not let this show in her personality, though. She could have been as bitter as Raenil. She had every right to be, but instead she was a beautiful fire dancing before his eyes.

" _Hey!"_ Her voice broke through his thoughts as he gazed absentmindedly at her. " _You alright?"_

" _Perfectly alright, love."_ He smiled again and kissed her hands. " _Oh, by the Valar, gi melin, Tirnel."_

" _And I love you,"_ she replied, glowing with happiness. She usually radiated a warm golden light from her person, but it intensified if she was fighting or she was exceptionally pleased.

Iowen, who was sitting beside them, rolled her eyes and kissed Helegon on the cheek. The elf had just arrived and sat beside her. " _Oh, Hallothneth, Haldir wanted a word. At the guard house, after dinner."_

" _Thank you, Helegon,"_ she replied. " _For now, though, let us be happy and let us eat! It feels as though we have gone all day without sustenance!"_ Tirnel laid a hand to her forehead theatrically, inciting a laugh from her friends.

After eating, Tirnel walked towards the guardhouse and entered the strategy room. Haldir was sitting in a straight-backed chair, fingertips together and clearly, he was very deep in thought. She attempted to stomp her feet as loudly as she dared, jarring the Marchwarden out of his thought but not into an action that would end in the destruction of several chairs and Tirnel.

" _You wished to see me, Haldir?"_ she asked. He nodded and gestured to a seat beside his.

" _Yes, I did. It seems that you have developed a close bond with Nemirdir, and yet the prince would seem to have captured your attention."_ Haldir's grey eyes were stormy as he spoke, and his face was grim. " _I only bring this up as a concern for unity within the Galadhrim."_

Tirnel was taken aback. " _Haldir, I thought you knew!"_

Haldir frowned, now becoming irked. " _Knew what?"_

" _I thought that you were one of the few who knew my true identity!"_ She clapped a hand to her forehead. " _Valar, this is embarrassing. I am Tirnel, Thranduil's illegitimate daughter. Legolas is my half-brother."_

Haldir's mouth fell open and he slid out of his chair and onto his knees before her. " _Forgive me, my lady, for I did not know."_

Tirnel winced. " _Stop that. You are my Captain, Haldir, and I will follow your orders to the end."_

He stood and sat back in his chair, running a hand through dishevelled silver hair. " _As you wish, Tirnel. Will you tell me of the travellers, when you go to see them?"_

" _Yes, hir-nîn. How did you know that I was going to see them?"_ she asked as she turned to leave.

" _I would stake my life on it, even if he were not your brother. You are extremely curious. I remember these things, you know,"_ Haldir said jokingly. They both laughed as she left.

Early the next morning, Tirnel extricated herself from her hammock and scavenged around in the half-dark for a decent tunic. She settled on a green one and laced deep brown breeches tightly under her boots. Attaching Variele to her side and her knives to her back, she left the flet without a sound.

The stairs took no time at all, and she jumped the last few. The morning was crisp and damp from the dew that sparkled like diamonds as the Sun hit it. She caught the sound of singing and saw a flash of gold hair disappear behind a tree. " _Legolas!"_

The prince turned, smiling as he saw his sister. " _Tirnel, what a pleasant surprise. I hadn't expected you until at least midday. My companions are slow to wake, but I will rouse them to meet you."_

" _They are tired, and are all in need of rest,"_ Tirnel began, but Legolas cut her off.

" _One night here is equal to ten in the wild. They are ready."_ He led her to the edge of a hollow filled with lumps of blanket and cloak. Legolas picked his way through the sleeping figures and prodded Aragorn's shoulder. The man was sitting up and alert instantly, but relaxed as Legolas explained.

The man stood too and approached Tirnel. " _Mae govannen, Tirnel. Any friend of Legolas's is one of mine."_

Tirnel inclined her head. " _Mae govannen, Aragorn. I have heard many tales about the Dunedain, but I have never quite believed them. And now the chief stands before me. I may be mistaken, but I believe we have met before?"_

The man nodded. " _Almost a year ago now. Mithrandir had visited with Thranduil about the creature Gollum, whom we had captured and left in the care of the elves. We stopped at the home of Radagast for one night. I met you there as Hallothneth."_

Tirnel smiled. " _And I met you there as Strider. We all have our secrets, do we not?"_

Aragorn raised an amused eyebrow and went off to rouse Boromir and the Halflings. Legolas grimaced and prodded the dwarf on his nose.

"Gimli," Legolas hissed. The dwarf grunted and rolled over, forcing the prince to step back to avoid being rolled into. Tirnel fought not to laugh as her brother seethed and poked the dwarf until Gimli gave a loud snort and sat bolt upright, knocking Mirkwood's prince onto his backside. Tirnel's laughter won as she fell of the stump where she had been sitting, laughing so hard she felt her lungs would fail. Legolas had gone very pink and his hair was in his face. The dwarf was in his battle stance, his massive axe out and ready.

Tirnel's laughter woke the rest of the travellers, some of whom(the two younger Halflings, for example) remembered her from the night before. The others were wary until Aragorn got a small fire going and the young Halflings began to cook a large breakfast for them all.

"So, my lady," the older of the two cooking Halflings asked, "what is your name, and how do you come to be in our little company?"

"My name is Tirnel, and please, do not call me my lady." Tinel grimaced, not having spoken Westron for a long time. "I was brought here by Legolas." Tirnel broke off and sent the feeling of asking a question to Legolas. He seemed faintly startled, but glanced at her and nodded. Tirnel returned the gesture and turned back to the Halfling. "I am his sister."

The dark-haired Halfling, who before now had remained silent and almost nervous, glanced between Tirnel and Legolas, appearing to search for similarities. The man who was not Aragorn snorted disbelievingly and returned his gaze to the small cookfire.

The other three Halflings gasped and the sandy-haired one who sat by the dark-haired one exclaimed, "But that would mean that you're...a...a princess!"

The dwarf grumbled and shuffled his feet. "Wonderful; another stuck-up Elven royal. One is quite enough, thank you!"

Tirnel scowled. "I would remind you, master dwarf, that I only just refrained from taking your beard off with Variele." She unsheathed her blade and laid it on her knees. The dwarf reached for it and took it by the hilt and examined it.

"Well made," he commented, handing it back to her. "And what about those knives all elves seem to carry? I would have examined your brother's long ago, but he seems to be fused to them."

Tirnel flipped them out of their sheathes, spun them for a moment, then presented the hilts to Gimli. The dwarf examined them minutely from hilt to tip, then handed them back with a grunt of approval. "May I know your names?" Tirnel asked, sheathing all her weapons and setting her elbows on her knees and letting her hands dangle.

"How rude of us!" The cooking Halflings jumped up.

"I'm Meriadoc Brandybuck, but you can call me Merry," the yellow-waistcoated one said.

"And I'm Peregrin Took, commonly called Pippin!" the other said, grinning broadly. "We're hobbits, from the Shire."

"I am Gimli, son of Gloin, a proud dwarf of Erebor," Gimli said.

"I am Boromir, son of Denethor, Steward of Minas Tirith," the disdainful man said, inclining his head with a slightly mocking air.

"My name is Samwise Gamgee, or Sam," said the sandy-haired hobbit.

"Frodo Baggins," the dark-haired hobbit said, turning protuberant blue eyes on Tirnel. She smiled and nodded at each as they told her their names, then stood.

"I would not wish to keep you from your meal," she said. "I suspect I will be seeing quite a bit of you in days to come. Perhaps later today. Farewell." She turned and left the hollow where the travellers ate, directing her feet to the guardhouse.

* * *

And now Haldir knows who she really is! I always see stuff that makes me feel terrible for writing Boromir like an ass, but he was at this point.

Gi melin = I love you


	24. Guests in the Golden Wood

Repost of chapter twenty-four!

* * *

Tirnel arrived in the guardhouse and took a seat, watching Haldir and Uirwen poring over various maps on the table. Haldir greeted her and went back to setting routes for the next patrol. Uirwen yawned widely and placed her head onto the table.

Haldir chuckled. " _We've been up all night,"_ he told Tirnel, looking to her with blood-shot eyes. " _But tell me of the travellers. Who are they? From where do they hail? Do they mean us harm?"_

" _No, and they are named as such. The Halflings are Frodo, the dark-haired, Sam, the sandy-haired, Merry, the one in yellow, and Pippin, the one in blue. The other man is Boromir, and the dwarf is Gimli. The hobbits, or Halflings, hail from the Shire, which is away in the West, past Imladris. Boromir is the Steward of Gondor's son, and Gimli comes from Erebor. They seem to be in need of rest."_

Uirwen spoke, voice muffled by the table. " _As long as they don't cause trouble, I don't care. Hush and let me sleep."_

Tirnel laughed and prodded Uirwen's shoulder. " _Wake up, mellon."_

" _Mmph. No."_

Haldir tugged on his lieutenant's arm. " _Up, or I shall be forced to leave you here and never return."_

" _Fine. Mmhmmg. Goway."_

Tirnel caught Uirwen under one arm and Haldir caught her other. Together, they hauled the nearly-unconscious lieutenant towards the temporary cots on the other side of the room, used during periods of unrest. Once Uirwen's boots and weapons had been removed and stowed, Haldir yawned as well, leaning against the wall.

" _You should sleep too, hir-nîn,"_ Tirnel said. " _We cannot follow the orders you give if they are cried out while you sleep."_

Haldir nodded sluggishly and staggered towards his small office. " _I have a cot here,"_ he muttered, then leaned against the wall, sliding down it until he was sitting on the floor, head lolling.

" _Oh no,"_ Tirnel groaned. " _What have I done that warrants me sleeping colleagues that I must haul around?"_

A soft knock on the door made her look up. The Dúnadan, Aragorn was standing there. "I heard you and thought that perhaps you could use some assistance."

"I really could, thanks," Tirnel said, grabbing Haldir's feet and opening his office's door.

Aragorn grabbed the Marchwarden under the arms and helped her place him on the cot that stood behind the desk. "I also came to ask you if you would like to visit our company again today."

"Oh, perhaps. The hobbits are quite adorable." Tirnel closed the door on the sleeping elf as she turned back to the man. "But I feel that your companion, Boroming-"

"Boromir."

"Yes, him; I feel that he resents me. And Gimli, too."

"Gimli dislikes elves on principal. Boromir, however, may dislike you because you are female, and he sees himself above you. No others of our company do," he added quickly, "it is only that Boromir is high-born in a city that does not value women as dwarves or elves do. He may fear a woman with power, as is common in Gondor or Rohan."

Tirnel smiled. "Thank you, Aragorn, but do not feel the need to explain his actions. I will most assuredly give him a reason to fear me, if necessary."

Aragorn winced as he followed Tirnel out of the guardhouse. _**Valar above, that would not end well.**_

Back at the small clearing which housed the group of travelers, Aragorn sat down and gestured for Tirnel to do the same. "May I ask more about your weapons?" he said, gesturing to the black sheath at Tirnel's side.

"Of course. I do not know what the material of my sheath is, but I believe it is the skin of a warg." She held it out to Aragorn. He took it, then nodded.

"You are quite right; it is warg skin." He handed it back, then took the sword. "This is a fine blade. Do you know much of it?"

"No, I am afraid not. I inherited it from my mother." Tirnel fell silent at this, glancing at Merry and Pippin, who seemed to be playing a game that involved one of them forcing the other's arm to the rock's surface that their elbows rested on in order to win.

"Can I play?" she asked, after watching Pippin beat Merry four times in a row.

"Of course," Merry said, shaking out his bruised arm. "I'll let you try and beat him."

Tirnel chuckled. "Thank you for the honor." She sat down across from Pippin, who was stretching his arms and looking quite satisfied with himself.

"Shall I go easy on you, my lady?" he asked, smiling impishly at Tirnel.

"Don't bother," she said. Setting her elbow on the rock, she smiled right back at Pippin. He glanced away quickly and set his own elbow on the rock and clasped her hand.

"Go!" Merry called. The others had paused in whatever they were doing and were watching the match.

Pippin started to push against Tirnel's hand, but realized with slight horror that he was slowly being forced towards the rock's surface. She showed no sign of exertion, but kept pushing steadily until Pippin's hand was flat against the stone. He let out a yelp and released her hand, cradling his own to his chest.

Merry fell to the ground in the throes of a laughing fit, rolling between the roots. Pippin blushed furiously as the others laughed too, and Gimli sat in Pippin's place.

"All right, lassie, you think you can best a dwarf of Erebor?" he asked, removing one gauntlet and slamming his elbow to the stone.

"I will certainly try my best," she responded, smiling wickedly.

The rest of the travellers gathered around the elf and dwarf, Legolas standing behind Tirnel and the hobbits clustered behind Gimli. Aragorn wrapped his hands around Gimli's and Tirnel's then released them with a cry of "Go!"

Gimli grunted and began to push, forcing Tirnel's hand towards the rock, watching her face. She tried to remain stoic, but soon began to panic slightly. She fought back, slowly bringing their hands back to the middle. Gimli frowned and pushed harder, very slowly pressing Tirnel's hand to the stone.

Tirnel growled in frustration and tried to fight back, but Gimli's hand crushed her to the rock. She exhaled and closed her eyes, dropping all resistance. Gimli released her hand and stood, cheering. "Look at that! The elves, beaten by a dwarf! Ha! My kin would be most pleased to know this."

Tirnel felt a pair of hands moving her off of the root she had been sitting on, and she looked over to see Legolas, elbow planted firmly on the stone, blue eyes like diamonds boring into Gimli.

"Oho!" Gimli cried, taking his seat again. "Well, the brother takes over for his sister, is that it? All right, Master elf, I accept." The dwarf grabbed Legolas's hand and Aragorn once more clasped the elf's and dwarf's hands together for a moment, crying "Go!"

Legolas's face was slowly turning pink and he pushed Gimli's hand to the rock, but the dwarf laughed as Legolas jerked his hand out of Gimli's, shaking it and staring at the dwarf. "You cheated!" he snapped.

Tirnel took her brother's hand and saw that large nail-marks decorated the back of it. She released it and glared at Gimli. "You do not win if you cheated, Gimli! Try the other hand."

Legolas placed his left arm down on the rock, and Gimli removed his other gauntlet. Aragorn started them off, inciting cheers of support from the hobbits and a lot of yelled Sindarin for Legolas from Aragorn and Tirnel. Boromir wasn't watching; he was mending his torn cloak.

Legolas's and Gimli's entwined hands didn't seem to be moving at all, both of them reddening. Gimli's face had turned the color of a ripe tomato, while Legolas's was the pale pink of a cherry blossom. Their hands began to shake as they entered the second minute. The hobbits fell silent and stared in awe as the hands moved a fraction of an inch to one side. Gimli grunted in frustration and tried to force his hand back to the middle. Legolas began to smile. Tirnel watched with an expression of enormous satisfaction as the hands moved another infinitesimal amount. Gimli grunted again and strained to right the balance, but to no avail. Legolas continued to apply constantly increasing pressure, his smile widening as Gimli fought to pull his arm back up, until Gimli's arm was pressed against the rock. Legolas released his opponent's hand and stood, beaming.

Aragorn and Tirnel shouted in joy and cheered as Gimli harrumphed loudly, but eventually began to smile as the hobbits(excluding Frodo, who wandered over to a root to watch) challenged him to a real wrestling match. The clearing was filled with laughter and light, as both of the elves were glowing in contentment while Gimli staggered around, three hobbits clinging to his back. Boromir slunk into the clearing and was knocked to the ground as Gimli's balance failed, bringing him crashing down on top of the man, hobbits still clinging on. Tirnel laughed but advanced towards the pile to help. Legolas and Aragorn did too, but an arm shot out from the center of the pile and swept Aragorn's legs out from under him. The Dúnadan wobbled most unmajestically and pulled Legolas down with him. The prince reached for Tirnel's arm, but she sidestepped him and laughed as the various travellers extricated themselves.

This proved to be a lengthy process, so she sat next to Frodo and watched. "So, Frodo, I heard that Mithrandir had passed into shadow. I am hoping that you can tell me different?" She glanced at him and saw that he was near tears. "Oh, please, if you do not wish to discuss it-,"

"No," he murmured. He shifted so that they were facing each other on the root. "I feel that I was responsible for his death, so I cannot tell you anything but the bitter truth: He is dead."

Tirnel placed a hand over her mouth, also near to tears. "Oh, no," she muttered. "He taught me how to use my sword." She wrapped her arms around the hobbit, pulling him into a hug. He returned it, allowing tears to dot her green tunic as the weight of the past week fell on him.

Aragorn pulled himself free from the knot of limbs and staggered over to the two of them, noticing their miserable expressions. "What is wrong?" he asked, sitting on a parallel root to the one Tirnel and Frodo occupied.

"Frodo has confirmed Mithrandir's passing," Tirnel said. Her tears had receded, but she was still saddened.

"Were you close to him?" Legolas had approached and sat on Tirnel's other side.

"Not really," she answered, "but he did teach me to wield a sword. I am forever grateful, even if he only visited a few times a year."

"Must be hard, if you live in some shack in the heart of Mirkwood." Boromir's snide remark went unanswered by Tirnel, but she was internally ripping his beard off. **What did I do to you?** she thought. Legolas glared at the man but ignored him too.

"I also heard the Lord Celeborn speak of a lost hope of secrecy. May I ask why this would be necessary?" Tirnel was monitoring the expressions of Aragorn and Frodo, the latter of whom had paled dramatically.

Aragorn glanced around at his companions, then warily back at Tirnel. "I hope I am right in trusting you," he muttered. "You know the story of the Rings of power, I assume?"

"Yes," Tirnel replied. She had observed Nenya on Lady Galadriel's finger countless times, and Radagast had told her about them. "What of them?"

"What do you know of the One?"

* * *

Well well well! What _does_ Tirnel know of the One? And how did Legolas get so good at arm wrestling? One of these questions will be answered in the next update...and also, Uirwen is all of us.


	25. A Journey to Mordor

Repost of chapter twenty-five!

* * *

Tirnel looked around at the faces of the travelers. All of them had managed to unwind themselves and were now watching her and Aragorn.

"I know that it betrayed Isildur three thousand years ago," she began. "And before that, Isildur cut it from the Dark Lord's hand, but refused to destroy it. I dread the thought of Sauron regaining the Ring and all of his former might. Why do you ask?"

Frodo reached to the collar of his shirt, glanced around quickly, then pulled a chain from underneath it. On it glittered a heavy ring of gold, which sparkled seductively in the soft light of the forest. She could feel a voice, like an inky black flower, opening in her mind and whispering to her. She wrenched her eyes from the Ring, silencing the voice.

"We are going to Mordor, to destroy it," Aragorn said. "We were named the Fellowship of the Ring by Elrond _Peredhil._ Gandalf, as you heard, was lost in Moria. From here, we will venture down the Anduin, though we do not know where to go after that. I am going to speak with Lord Celeborn on the matter soon."

"How did it pass to you, Frodo?" Tirnel asked, not looking at the Ring.

"My uncle found it in the goblin-tunnels beneath the Misty Mountains, where it had been kept by an evil little creature called Gollum. Apparently, he ventured out of the mountains to look for his 'precious', but he was taken into Mordor and tortured for information. He gave up the names Baggins and Shire, and I was pursued by the Nine. Aragorn found me and my kin, and took us to Rivendell. We discussed the fate of the Ring, and decided to destroy it in Mordor, as this was the only path." Frodo put the Ring back in his shirt after talking himself into silence and Boromir's eyes followed it, but he looked away when he say Tirnel watching him.

"This is insane," Tirnel said. They all looked startled as she stood and began to pace. "This is ridiculous. As Celeborn said, you have no hope to remain undiscovered."

"But there is still a chance," Aragorn snapped. He stood as well. "Would you rather we just give up and hand the Ring to the Witch-king? Would you rather we let Sauron cover the world in a second darkness? Elves would be safe; you can sail away any time you feel like it! The rest of us have only this choice. We are going to destroy it."

"I never said that I did not agree with it," Tirnel said cooly. "I simply stated that it was insane, and that Sauron will not expect that anyone will want to destroy it. It is a good path, even if I am incredulous."

"Will you help us?" Legolas had spoken quietly, but his tone was grim. She realized that he felt the same as her about the quest's likeliness to work, and was prepared to die to keep the world safe. All eight of them were.

She turned to all of them, looking at each face separately. "I need to think."

"What do you need to think about?" Boromir said snidely. "Either you come or you sail, sail off into the sunset, all safe and warm."

Tirnel snarled. "It's not all that simple. How can I tell Haldir, without him refusing to let me go? How can I leave my friends? How can I leave-" She nearly said Nemirdir's name, but though that Boromir would scoff worse than ever, and that the others would regard her as frivolous, or cowardly.

Aragorn sighed. "Please decide soon. We would like to leave quickly, with or without you." He placed an arm around Tirnel's shoulders and guided her from the clearing. " _I apologize for taking out my anger on you, Tirnel,"_ he muttered to her. " _I wish that Gandalf were still here. I was never meant to be the leader."_

" _I accept your apology,"_ Tirnel told him, placing a hand on his shoulder before walking towards her flet.

* * *

Ta-da! I'm back. Man, I am stressing so hard about getting this residency. It's a month at an art college in Southern California. I get three college credits and am officially named as an art scholar of the state of California. One month, July 8th to August 8th, room and board in real dorms, _for $1,785 with a $20 application fee. Holy shit._ I really hope I get in!

BTW, _Peredhil_ means Half-elven. It's Elrond's formal title.


	26. A Choice To Make

Repost of chapter twenty-six!

* * *

Iowen was sitting on the bed in the flet when Tirnel entered. " _Where have you been?"_ Iowen asked, setting down her hairbrush.

" _Visiting my brother and his companions."_ Tirnel set her weapons down on a table. " _They want me to accompany them on their journey."_

Iowen stood, going to Tirnel's side. " _Where will their journey take them?"_

" _Tell no one, but they plan to destroy the One Ring in Mordor."_

" _Tirnel! You cannot seriously think about accompanying them; You would be killed!"_ Iowen shoved Tirnel onto the bed and sat behind her, undoing the younger elf's braids and brushing out the gold-brown hair.

" _And if their quest was to fail, we would all die."_ Tirnel played with the chain at her throat.

Iowen remained silent and brushed more forcefully. Tears were in her eyes as she began to braid, fingers fumbling.

" _You're stress-braiding."_

" _No, I'm not."_

" _You only braid like that when you're worried about something."_

" _I'm not. Go on, go on your adventure and get yourself killed. I'll just stay here, taking care of Helegon and Nemirdir, and we'll all sail when we get word of your death."_ Iowen's fingers snagged in Tirnel's hair.

The younger elf turned around and hugged her friend. Iowen let tears fall onto Tirnel's back. " _Iowen, you know there's no other way. I must go."_

" _No, you mustn't,"_ Iowen sniffed. " _You can stay."_

Tirnel sighed, sitting back and taking Iowen's hands. " _I cannot stay here while I have the chance the make a difference. I cannot stay here while...while…"_ she sat up straighter and looked her friend in the eye. " _While my family and friends fight a battle that they will lose. I will go with them."_

A knock sounded at the door. Nemirdir entered, bringing with him the scent of pine and woodsmoke that Tirnel knew well. " _Hello, love,"_ he said, pulling Tirnel into his arms. He kissed her on the forehead and sat down in a chair. " _Where have you been all day?"_

Tirnel winced, thinking of how heartbroken Nemirdir would be. " _I was with my brother and his friends. They want me to leave with them."_

" _Leave? Where to?"_ Nemirdir appeared confused and slightly worried.

She took a deep breath and muttered, " _To Mordor."_

" _Mordor?"_ Nemirdir said, disbelief and fear crossing his face. " _Are they insane? Are you going to go with them?"_

" _I am,"_ she said, looking at her hands.

" _Tirnel, you'll be killed!"_ He took her hands and squeezed them. " _Love, you'll die. Die, and I'll have to sail to see you again. Neither of us wants that. If you die, you'll be alone."_ Nemirdir kissed her hands and sat next to her on the bed, arms wrapped around her.

" _And if I do not go, the quest will be that much weaker. If they fail, we shall die shouldn't I sacrifice myself to make a difference?"_

" _But why must it be you? Haldir would be a better choice."_ He winced as Tirnel scowled at him.

" _Legolas is my brother. And Haldir must remain here and prepare the Golden Wood for the armies that will surely come. I would be a perfect choice."_ Tirnel stood and began to pace. " _I am going, Nem."_

He sighed. " _I know you told me to worry about myself, but I want you to stay where it is safe. I know that you will also disregard everything I say. But I will drug you if I have to! I will put sleeping herbs in your food on the day they leave, and I will tell them that you are not going with them."_

Tirnel stood suddenly. " _I am going, Nem!"_ she snapped. " _There's nothing you can do, short of wounding me perilously, that will stop me!"_ She stormed out of the flet, snatching her knives from beside the door and brushing past Helegon on the stairs.

She was so distraught that she hadn't even noticed where she was going. Before she knew it, she was in the clearing that the Fellowship lived in. Nearly all of them were gone, but Aragorn bowed his head to her as she sat next to him. He appeared to be deep in thought, staring contemplatively at a root at his feet. "What seems to be the matter?" he asked, after a few minutes had gone by.

Tirnel sighed. "The elf I love, Nemirdir, wishes for me to remain where it is safe, where I cannot be harmed." She scowled at the ground. "I want to go with you. But I do not want to break his heart, to make him die of grief. I am torn."

The man sat back against the trunk of the tree, eyes on the canopy of leaves. The wind stirred through Tirnel's unbound hair and tears, unbidden, suddenly filled her eyes. She quickly wiped them away as Aragorn spoke quietly. "Are you sure you want to join us?"

More tears threatened to fall. "Yes," Tirnel managed to say, before pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, placing her face on her knees, and beginning to cry.

Aragorn put his arms around Tirnel, murmuring Sindarin to her. Legolas approached the edge of the clearing, but stopped as Aragorn flapped a hand at him. " _You're alright,"_ the Dúnadan muttered. " _You'll be fine."_

Tirnel sat back, trying to breathe deeply, and wiped her eyes. " _I hope. Thank you for your time."_ She stood and left, passing Legolas with a nod. She managed to make it to training fields, which were mercifully empty. The dummy sat where it always was. It was leaking hay from a few gashes, but was still good for destroying. Realising that she had left Variele in her flet, Tirnel smiled grimly and walked to the weapons shed to borrow a sword. She returned and whirled around the dummy, slashing through its torso and sheathing her sword. She drew her knives and cut off the dummy's head. The frame snapped, forcing the dummy into a bow. Tirnel snarled at it and brought her knife's hilt down on its back, cracking it in two.

She stepped back, breathing heavily, and sat down on a rock. Conflicting feelings rampaged through Tirnel's mind. She dropped her face into her hands, trying to block out the yells from one side of her mind, telling her to stay and live her life in peace with Nemirdir and to forget the travellers. The other side raged at her, the word _cowardice_ at the forefront of its rant. " _Stop!"_ She stood up suddenly, the word coming out louder than she had meant it to.

"Made your decision to stay behind and cower?" The voice of Boromir slipped into her mind. She wheeled around to see the man polishing his horn and leaning against a tree.

Biting back the curses she longed to snarl, Tirnel bowed her head. "My lord Boroming. I have taken long in council with my emotions, but have not yet come to a decision. But, my lord, did you? Or were you sent? I have heard that men do such rash things in the East, sending their men away, even if they wish to remain and play soldier." She smirked internally, enjoying the shade of red that Boromir's face had turned.

The man ground his teeth for a moment, then, to Tirnel's shock, bowed his head to her in return. "The others await your return." He turned and left, seeming close to having steam pour out of his ears. Feeling slightly more cheered, Tirnel sheathed her knives and followed the man back to the clearing. The others were arrayed around it: Legolas and Aragorn were sitting on one side, deep in a whispered discussion, the hobbits were clumped on the other, and Gimli was polishing his axe in the center. Boromir sat on the edge, an arrogantly bored expression on his face.

Aragorn glanced up as Tirnel entered the clearing. " _Mae govannen, Tirnel._ Have you made a decision?"

Tirnel grimaced. "Not yet, _mellon._ When is the Fellowship leaving Lothlórien?"

The Dúnadan winced. "Hopefully, sometime in the next two weeks. Make your decision before then."

Tirnel nodded. Hay still stuck to her clothes from the dummy, so she picked it off for something to do with her fingers. Not really sure what to do with the rest of her and feeling that she should leave the others to themselves, Tirnel left the clearing, heading for the dining hall. A few elves dotted the walls, but Tirnel was alone at the Galadhrim's table. She ate a small dinner and, though it was only around five, went back to her flet.

* * *

Eeee. I don't like conflict very much. Anyhoo, I really hope that Nem&Tir work it out, because (warning to my more delicate readers) this story is going to get real dark, real fast. It's kind of like if you spilled a small bottle of India Ink on a white shirt. For now, though, we're just dripping a few splatters here and there. So keep your hats on, and keep your eyes ready to read. See you next time! (PS: If you got the _Pushing Daisies_ reference, points for you!)


	27. Have A Life Without Me

Repost of chapter twenty-seven! We're gonna do things a little different this chapter. The translations will be before the chapter this time.

 _Ês:_ meat

 _Metho i vôr_ : fight the dark

 _Sevil i veleth nîn:_ you have my love

Oh jeez. Please don't kill me, you guys. I'll go sit in the corner, but the ink has spilled. And all I have to say is that I had no choice.

* * *

At breakfast the next morning, Haldir told the Galadhrim that they were going on patrol again the next day. Tirnel turned back to her food, feeling loneliness eating away at her insides. Nemirdir hadn't spoken with her since the night before: She had returned to her flet and found it empty. The fast pace and adrenaline of a good patrol would help her take her mind off of her internal war.

Iowen had been there when she woke, but Tirnel ignored her attempts to speak, desiring the company of the Galadhrim for distraction, not talking about her decision. It was made, and there was no going back.

After finishing her food and not glancing to Nemirdir, who sat at the other end of the table, she left for the Gardens. They were full of elves enjoying the Sun's rays, but the darker portions were largely deserted. She sat down at the foot of an ancient tree, taller than the others. It moaned low in her mind, reminding her of the old cow that Radagast had kept. She had named it _Ês_ , which made Radagast laugh. She let her head fall back against the trunk, willing herself not to scream in frustration and pain.

She was so confused that it was becoming difficult to focus. So many emotions were filling her mind, making her head spin and giving her the feeling of almost exploding. She wanted to go, but the part of her mind devoted to Nemirdir protested. She sighed and wrapped her arms around her own torso, as if it would fly apart. A bird fluttered down next to her, twittering to her. She recognized the form of its calls, and realized that she could understand it.

It was from Radagast, it told her, saying that he was well and that he hoped that she was well. She smiled sadly, remembering her days with the Brown Wizard. She spoke back to the bird, keeping her message short (as birds are not the best at remembering things), saying that she was fine and that she wished her former guardian well, and to give Thranduil a good kick in the rear if he ever saw the King. The bird flew off, and Tirnel slumped down again, this time laying flat out on the grass.

" _I wish to speak to you."_ It was Uirwen.

" _Go ahead,"_ Tirnel replied, unmoving.

The lieutenant sat beside the supine elfling. " _Have you and Nemirdir been fighting?"_

Tirnel sat up. " _What makes you ask such a thing?"_

" _You didn't speak to each other at breakfast this morning. Did he try to force himself on you last night? That's why I gave you those knives—,"_

" _By Elbereth, no!"_ Tirnel shook her head emphatically, but wondered what she would have done if he had.

" _You two are usually the life of the table, and it keeps the rest of us from falling into our plates. Tell me what he has done."_

" _It…"_ Tirnel sighed. She decided to lie, just to keep at least one relationship simple. " _It's nothing. I will see you tomorrow morning."_ She stood and left, Uirwen watching her back as she went.

Early the next morning, Tirnel dressed in a blue tunic that reminded her of Nemirdir's eyes, and grey breeches, pulling her boots on and strapping her knives to her back. She carried Variele with her, leaving before Iowen could say anything. She arrived in the hall at the same time as Nemirdir, who took her by the arm and led her to one side.

" _I am sorry, Nem,"_ Tirnel said, cutting him off. " _I know you want to protect me."_

" _You are right; I do want to protect you,"_ Nemirdir said. He was smiling sadly. " _Though I know that you can defend yourself very well. My concerns would seem to be baseless. I love you, Tirnel."_ He wrapped her in his arms, planting a kiss on her forehead.

She returned the embrace, whispering into his chest, " _I love you too, Nem, but I am going."_ She felt his muscles tighten under his tunic, but he did not speak. She stepped back and smiled at him. He smiled back and took her hand. They arrived at the Galadhrim's table and sat beside Helegon, who immediately turned to them to talk, but Haldir ran into the hall.

" _We need to go!"_ he yelled. " _Now!"_ Uirwen leapt up and joined him as he ran out again. Tirnel was caught up in the other elves, but felt Nemirdir snatch her arm and pull her to his side. Helegon was in front of them, calling for the elves entering the hall to move aside. They did, bemused as the whole of the Galadhrim sprinted by.

They reached the guardhouse as Haldir left it, fully prepared. Uirwen was right behind him, fastening her cloak and trying to catch hold of her Captain's arm. Tirnel snatched up Nemirdir's vambraces and buckled them on him as he fastened their cloaks, then she buckled her own. Helegon was gone already as Tirnel sprinted in front of Nemirdir, following Haldir to the borders.

The Marchwarden had stopped in a wide clearing, kneeling by the broken and bloodied form of an elf. Losdir hurried forward, breathless, and crouched by Haldir's side. " _Égon,"_ the healer breathed, brushing the hair off the elf's face.

The Marchwarden stood, face like a wall but with rage and pain in his eyes. " _We will hunt them,"_ he snarled, and swept from the clearing. Losdir remained by Égon's side as all the others followed their Captain.

They went through the woods, all on high alert. Uirwen was giving off waves of fury, as if she would incinerate any orcs that dared to cross her path. Strangely enough, though, no orcs seemed to be anywhere in the forest.

Haldir stopped, confused. Were the orcs perhaps preparing to attack? He whistled shrilly to the other elves, all of whom were spread through the nearby trees. They melted out of the forest as he signalled for them to prepare a defense.

The forest exploded with nightmares as both orcs and spiders charged towards the elves. Uirwen called for a retreat, sending the Galadhrim scrambling back for the trees. Haldir took up the call, running after the last few elves.

Before all of them managed to take refuge, orcs drew arrows from hidden quivers and set them to crude bows. A growled order sent the arrows hurtling to the straggling elves, taking down a silver-haired female who had been running beside Nemirdir.

Tirnel screamed, guilt and grief mixing to form an acid in her stomach. She slowed, intending to turn around and slaughter the foul creatures killing the others. Nemirdir seemed to read her thoughts and caught hold of her wrist. " _We can do nothing!_ " He ignored the tears that threatened to blur his vision, trying to get himself and Tirnel into the trees.

They had nearly reached one when an orc leapt out from behind it and slashed open Nemirdir's leg. He fell to one side, nearly pulling Tirnel with him. She shook him off and raised her sword to block the orc's bloody scimitar. Nemirdir managed to drag himself over to the roots of a gnarled tree and collapsed there, bleeding freely.

The orc was speaking its foul language, evidently taunting Tirnel. Its words scorched, making her want to drop her sword and protect her ears, but she instead began to carve up the orc, bit by bit. Each stroke of hers was met with a strike from the orc, but it was losing. Its ear fell to the ground, followed by a chunk of leg and a finger. It roared in pain as she half-blinded it with a stab of silver, prompting it to swat her aside like a bothersome insect.

She landed next to a very pale Nemirdir, then pushed herself up again, head spinning. The orc snarled menacingly, black blood staining the fallen leaves. Tirnel snarled right back, gold eyes burning with a ferocity only matched by a dragon's ire. They charged at each other again, leaving Tirnel with a superficially injured arm. She ignored the shallow gash and fought on.

The orc, perhaps tiring of playing with her (and rather missing its ear), threw her aside again and turned to Nemirdir, who was hastily trying to staunch the flow of blood from his leg. The orc smiled viciously and brought the hilt of its scimitar down on the elf's head, then stabbed his chest once, withdrawing the blade for another attack.

Tirnel felt Nemirdir's cry of pain rip a hole in her heart as she heaved herself up and slashed the orc's neck from behind. The head fell, a look of twisted pleasure still spread across the malformed face. The body fell back as Tirnel knelt at Nemirdir's side.

The hilt of the scimitar had broken the skin over his right eyebrow, and deep scarlet blood was soaking into his coppery hair. His pale face was streaked with blood, creating a horribly stark contrast, and the wound in his chest was oozing dark, sticky blood onto his grey tunic.

Tirnel began tearing strips of her own tunic for bandages, trying to ignore the light that was fading from around Nemirdir's body. " _Stay with me, Nem,_ " she muttered fervently, ignoring the sounds of battle behind her. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away. Crying would not save him.

" _Tirnel._ " His breath was ragged.

" _Hush,"_ she whispered, forcing a small smile onto her face. " _Losdir is coming_."

 _"No. I must speak._ " He raised a scarlet-stained hand and placed it on her face. She clutched it there, tears spilling over her eyelashes. _"I fade, Tirnel. I am dying, but I fear it not. I know I will see you in Valinor."_ He shuddered, spasms of pain flitting across his face. _"Do not hurry. Live. Have a life without me, if only for a while. Live to see evil driven from our lands, then we will meet again. Metho i vôr, love. It has taken me, but do not let it take you."_ He shuddered again as other elves appeared from the trees, battleworn and some bleeding. Tirnel glanced up frantically, catching Losdir's eye. The healer shook his head helplessly. She turned back to Nemirdir.

 _"I cannot just let you die,"_ she cried, squeezing his hand.

 _"It is as though I am falling asleep, love,"_ he whispered. _"You will not be there when I wake, but you will come."_

 _"Nem, please, don't leave me."_ Tirnel's tears mixed with the blood on her face that was not her own as she reached out and brushed away blood from the corner of his lips.

Nemirdir smiled weakly. " _I am leaving. Novaer, Tirnel. Sevil i veleth nîn."_ The glow dwindled away as his water-blue eyes faded and stilled.

 _"NO!"_ Tirnel screamed, taking Nemirdir's body by the shoulders and into her arms. _"No! Nem! Nemirdir!"_

Haldir stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. The clearing was silent except for Tirnel's sobs. Helegon pulled Tirnel to her feet, wrapping her in his arms. He glanced to Haldir, tears starting in his own eyes. The Galadhrim's captain shook his head grimly and turned away.


	28. Decision

Repost of chapter twenty-eight.

* * *

They had lost four other elves in the attack. Two ellith: Maenith and Sídthel, and two ellyn besides Nemirdir: Linnor and Égon. Helegon carried one end of the litter that held Nemirdir's body and cast nervous glances at Tirnel, who carried the other end. She had not spoken a word since Nemirdir had been placed in the litter, when she had whispered " _Be gentle_."

Haldir carried one end of Sídthel's litter with Uirwen, leading the others at a quick pace. Losdir had done what he could for the injured, of which there were many, but he was working on a few of the elves as they walked back to Lórien.

" _Hallothneth,"_ Helegon said quietly. " _It was not your fault."_

She said nothing.

" _Hallothneth, please-"_

" _Tirnel."_

" _What?"_

" _My name is Tirnel."_

" _Um, alright, then. Tirnel, it's not your fault."_

" _I know."_

" _It was that orc. You killed it. You avenged him."_

" _You are not helping."_

" _Oh. Alright then. I'll stop."_

" _Please do."_ Tirnel's hands gripped the poles of Nemirdir's litter so hard that they cracked, forcing a splinter into her palm. She ignored it; it was nothing compared to the pain in her mind. It felt as though she was trying to run through mud, her limbs getting pulled down every time she moved. Grief threatened to make her fall and sink down through the mud, to a place where there were no orcs, no pain, and no death for the elves, as it should have been. It was tempting to let herself fall, but she could not. At least, not yet. She had to hold herself together for a while longer, just long enough to take care of Nemirdir.

A rushing sound, like that of water, filled Tirnel's head she crossed the borders with the others, ignoring everything. Elves cried out as they entered the city, recognising the dead, but their cries meant nothing to her. Some of them took to escorting the wounded to the Healing Wards, while others took hold of the litters and helped bring the dead to to the training fields. Helegon took hold of Tirnel's arm, gently guiding her towards the Wards. She let herself be pulled away, eyes glazing over and her legs moving automatically. She only noticed then that the gash on her arm had bled all over her tunic and the splinter was rather deeply pushed into her hand.

Before she knew it, she was sitting on a bench in the Healing Wards; all the beds were taken by the wounded. Healers were bustling about, tending to the most seriously injured first. Most of them only had gashes or broken limbs, though a few were moaning aloud or had fainted from blood loss. Lady Galadriel swept through the doors, looking grim, and went to the bed of an elf who was shaking, blood spilling from a wound on her abdomen.

Helegon appeared at Tirnel's side, then sat beside her. " _Give me your hand."_ She did, barely noticing as he wrenched the splinter out and wrapped a bandage around her hand. He watched her face anxiously as he wound a bandage around the gash on her upper arm, but her eyes were fixed on the floor, face completely expressionless. He tied off the bandage and winced as his head twinged. An orc had managed to bring its hilt down on his head, but he had stayed on his feet up to now. He sat down heavily next to Tirnel as Iowen entered the Wards. She caught sight of Tirnel and Helegon on their bench and hurried over to them.

" _Oh, thank the Valar. Where-where is…"_ she broke off as she noticed Tirnel's face. " _No...oh, no…"_ Iowen dropped onto the bench beside Tirnel, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Shaking off her friend's arm, Tirnel stood and left the Wards without a word. Iowen looked after her worriedly, then moved over to hug Helegon and privately thank the Valar that her love had made it back, and to curse herself for thinking it.

Tirnel found herself in the clearing of the Fellowship. They all stood when she arrived, and she knew that she must have looked strange: She was covered in another's blood, tear-tracks through it on her face, tunic torn, and bandages wrapped around her hand and arm. Aragorn had begun to approach her, a worried look on his face, but before he could ask what had happened, she spoke. "I am coming with you."

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...please don't kill me. I swear I didn't want to do this, and I cried while I was writing it. Just review with all the feels, and again, I am really sorry.


	29. Plans For The Future

Hi my friends! I am so sorry for inflicting this upon you all. I love you, i really do, but you will see in the end(if we ever get there, with my spastic updates) that it was worth it.

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Tirnel was in her flet, having washed and changed into a black tunic, then sat on the bed, polishing her sword. Her cloth was stained the same color, and she put it aside as she sheathed Variele and buckled the sheath to her side, strapping the knives to her back. She had just begun her torn tunic when the door swung open, admitting Helegon and Iowen. Iowen walked over to Tirnel, pulling a chair behind her. Helegon stood behind the chair as she sat, facing Tirnel with a pleading look. Tirnel glanced up from her sewing.

" _Please, Tirnel, talk to us, I know how it is to lose a loved one. I lost both of my parents, and I wish I could help you deal with your pain. It helps to talk. It does, believe me."_ Iowen watched, nervously searching Tirnel's face as the elfling set her needle aside.

" _We also feel the pain of his passing,"_ Helegon said, voice hoarse. " _Iowen and I were to be married in a year, and he was going to be at my side. We were great friends, even before you arrived."_ Helegon broke off and swiped at his face, settling on the arm of Iowen's chair. " _We tried to tell you yesterday."_ He held up his left hand to show a thin band of silver on his third finger. Iowen did the same.

Tirnel put away the tunic. It was still bloody and the needle was still stuck in it, but she didn't really care. " _Will you still wed at that time?"_

" _Yes, of course!"_ Iowen said. " _And we would be honored if you would attend."_ Tirnel smiled sadly.

" _Thank you, mellyn. That means a great deal to me, more than you could know. I am of course delighted at your union, but I fear I will not be able to attend."_ She stood and went to her friend, bestowing a small hug around Iowen's shoulders and placing her hand on Helegon's arm in a gesture of respect. She forced a smile and left the flet again.

Legolas winced and set down his quiver. Another wave of confused emotions had just seeped into his mind, and he was fairly sure that they were not his. Aragorn noticed and sat beside him. " _What is the matter?"_ the man asked, looking carefully into the elf's eyes.

"Nothing," Legolas replied. He rubbed a hand along the length of his bow and plucked the string, trying to ignore the mess in his head.

"Is it about Tirnel?" Aragorn persisted.

"Yes. We seem to share an...emotional connection of sorts. If either of us feel a particularly strong emotion, the other will get a hint of it. Right now, she's confused and also in deep grief. I can only guess that the patrol went badly, and that someone close to her was hurt." The elf put down his bow. " _I want to find her."_

Aragorn leaned back. "Let her find you. But keep monitoring her feelings, if it does you no harm."

"It does not. I will keep an eye on her as well," Legolas said, placing his bow and quiver down beside his bedroll. He stood and left the clearing, heading for the Gardens of which stories had been told in Mirkwood. He got lost, though, and ended up on the training field. There was a pyre burning at one end, and seven bundles of cloth were lined up beside it. Legolas saw Tirnel standing beside one, tears falling from her face onto her black tunic. He walked closer, but kept at a respectful distance as the Lady Galadriel appeared, dressed in dark grey. She spoke a few soft words to the elves that stood by the dead, and they each stepped forward to take something from her. Tirnel received something small and silver, which she slipped onto the forefinger of her right hand as she walked towards Legolas, and also something gold, which she dropped into her pocket.

He could feel the grief dripping off her and creating a puddle about her feet. He placed a hand on her shoulder, making her look up. He smiled kindly, and she returned it, but the instant he turned away and led her back to the Fellowship's hollow, her smile vanished as though it had never been there.

She sat down beside him when they reached the clearing, and Aragorn sat on her other side. The ring she now wore was made of a silver metal, with a fiery orange jewel set in a nest of wires wrought to look like vines. "May I see that ring?" Gimli asked, stepping forwards.

Tirnel took it off and placed it in the dwarf's palm. He turned it over and over in his fingers, examining it carefully. "This is _mithril,_ " he reported. "I know not the name of the stone, but it is indeed beautiful." He handed it back to her, slipping it onto her finger. She looked at it for herself, murmuring a "thank you" as she did so. Legolas felt from her the smallest fluttering of happiness, quickly crushed by grief. She was fading, and likely to fade away completely unless something happened very quickly.

Legolas stood, catching hold of Aragorn's arm and pulling him to the edge of the clearing. The others watched as Legolas whispered something to Aragorn and the man smiled, nodding. They re-entered the clearing, and approached Boromir. The Gondorian looked up warily as Aragorn called, "We are going to have a duel."

"You and Legolas?" Merry asked, setting down the apple he'd been about to eat.

"No." Legolas stepped over the roots to Tirnel's side. "Boromir will be dueling with Tirnel."

She looked up at him, disbelief and the slightest touch of satisfaction on her face. He sent her a questioning feeling, raising one eyebrow. She gave a very small smile and nodded. Boromir stood and unsheathed his sword. It looked heavy and sharp, and Tirnel eyed it warily as she drew Variele.

Boromir almost laughed as he saw the elfling raise her sword. It looked as though it would barely make a dent in his shield. He stood before her, smirking. She bowed slightly, which made him want to laugh all over again. He glanced to Aragorn, who shot him a stony look. Boromir turned back to Tirnel only to see a blur of silver speeding towards his face. He grunted in shock and raised his own just in time to block it. She had spun away before he managed to swing at her. His blade suddenly seemed heavy and bulky, slowing down his movements as he tried to strike.

He turned to see the silver blade coming at him again, and he blocked it on his arm, the sword clashing on his vambrace. She moved quicker than he could process, somehow appearing behind him and shoving him, hard. He stumbled forward and dropped his sword. She snatched it up and tossed it behind her, narrowly missing Gimli. Boromir spun to face her, a snarl escaping him. She smirked and ducked behind him, but her face contorted as he grabbed her wrist, twisting it behind her back. Variele dropped at his feet as he squeezed her wrist tightly.

Legolas fought the impulse to step forward and instead sat down on a root. Tirnel winced and stomped on Boromir's foot, forcing him to release her wrist. He gasped in pain and stepped back as Tirnel whirled about to face him. Neither of them had their swords, but Tirnel drew both of her knives as Boromir unsheathed a dagger from his belt, and they advanced toward each other again. He growled and lunged, slashing at her throat only to have her block him with her blades. He yelped as she nicked the back of his hand, blood running down his wrist.

She dodged as he swung again, this time rolling to avoid the dagger. Before she got to her feet, she kicked at the backs of his knees, felling him like a tree. He grunted in pain as he hit the ground, rolling over as she sprang up. He tried to stand but it was too late: she sat on his chest and pressed her knives to his throat. He growled and tried to throw her off, but she gripped him with her knees and snarled menacingly. A drop of blood appeared at the point of her knife, and she stood quickly.

"I believe we know who won," Aragorn said quietly. The hobbits watched, wide eyed as Tirnel carefully wiped the small amount of blood from her knives and sheathed them again. Legolas stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. She glanced at him, sending thanks. He was startled to find that a fragment of speech entered his mind. He heard, faintly, Tirnel's voice: " _Han-"_ She stared at him, just as shocked as he was.

Evidently, their connection was evolving.

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So there's another chapter! Boroming-oop, **Boromir** got his ass beat by our grief-stricken elfling. Please accept this chapter as a salve on the great wound I have torn in Tirnel's heart. Love you all!


	30. Farewell to Lórien

Repost of chapter thirty!

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Tirnel lay in her hammock that night, probing her feelings for a hint of Legolas. All she got was a confused soup of intense grief and lingering smugness. Soon she became aware of something green shimmering on the edge of her consciousness. She focused on it, realising that she could hear shreds of singing, though she couldn't make out any words. She smiled, feeling a modicum of her grief slide away, feeling weariness replace it, and let her eyes glaze over.

She woke early the next morning, and rose to see Helegon sitting at the foot of the bed. Iowen was just coming out of the bathroom, dressed in a plain green dress. She smiled as Tirnel extricated herself from her hammock.

" _Good morning,"_ Iowen said cautiously. She inwardly winced at her use of the word 'morning,' so like 'mourning.'

Tirnel smiled at her friends. " _Good morning. I hope you two have had a nice night together."_ She raised one eyebrow, making Iowen blush.

" _We didn't do anything!"_ she protested.

" _Of course not."_ Tirnel took a change of clothes into the bathroom and dressed, then returned to the room to find Iowen and Helegon leaning against one another and murmuring contentedly. " _Ai, can I not get one moment away from you two being in love?"_ The joke fell flat as her friends broke apart. Grief seeped back into the room like gas as Tirnel buckled her sword to her side, leaving her vambraces and knives on the floor near the window, then left the flet without another word.

The Fellowship was packing up when Tirnel arrived, Aragorn leaning against a tree with a bag at his feet. He straightened up when Tirnel approached, bowing his head. She returned the gesture. " _Mae govannen, Tirnel. We are leaving tomorrow,"_ he said.

She nodded. " _With me in your company."_

He grinned. " _None would think of denying you entry, after what we witnessed yesterday. Even Boromir has been_ _suitably cowed."_

" _And how could he not be, with my blades to his throat?"_ she asked.

Legolas approached her and placed his own bag at his feet. " _Are you alright?"_ he asked. He tried to ask the same thing in his mind, but she did not seem to receive it.

" _Yes, thank you,"_ she replied. He smiled slightly and placed a hand on her shoulder, gripping it gently. Her smile was lackluster, but her eyes were less pained than before. "Well, seeing as we leave tomorrow, I had better pack."

Gimli called across the clearing to her, "Lassie, you don't have to go."

"Yes, Gimli. I do. I will accompany you even to Mordor. This is how I can be of help." She reached to the collar of her shirt and pulled on her necklace. Dangling there on the delicate chain hung a ring, identical to Frodo's. The only difference was that it simply hung there, not enticing any of them. "The Lady will enchant it to draw in whoever gazes upon it, if they know not of its spell. We will all know of its power, and none of us will fall victim to it." She took Aragorn and Legolas by the arms, and led them to the edge of the clearing. " _Now, I know you will not like to agree with me on this,"_ she began. " _But my mind is quite made up and this was the Lady's idea in the first place."_

" _Such a perfect replica,"_ Aragorn muttered.

Tirnel sighed. " _Yes, it is. I am glad that you have realized the quality of the copy, but do you see the beauty of the plan? No one will suspect a female of accompanying you. And I can divert suspicion onto myself. Surely you agree I can protect myself better than the halfling."_

Legolas chewed his lip, thinking. It was a good plan, there was no denying. But...would her intense grief incapacitate her? He decided that he trusted her to get it under control and nodded. " _I agree that it is a good idea. I am willing to go along with the plan."_

Tirnel smiled grimly. " _I will see you both at daybreak tomorrow."_ She clasped Legolas's shoulder and placed a hand to her chest in respect to Aragorn, then walked away.

Back in her flet, Iowen and Helegon were sewing beside each other on the bed. " _Good morning again, Tirnel,"_ Iowen said. Helegon merely grunted, not glancing up from his fingers, the tips of which were stained with blood.

" _Hello._ _Iowen, where are you going to go after you get married?"_ Tirnel asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Iowen looked up, slightly shocked. " _I am moving in with Helegon, Tirnel. What makes you ask?"_

The elfling shrugged. " _Well, I assumed you'd like something a bit bigger. Like this flet."_

Helegon poked his finger with the needle again, cursed, and looked up. " _You needn't worry yourself about it,"_ he told her.

" _I'll have no need of it,"_ she replied. " _I want you to be happy."_ Tirnel stood and pulled out her small sack that she used for going on patrol, packing it with tunics, breeches, and shirts. " _I leave in the morning,"_ she said over her shoulder. " _Please, accept my offer."_

Iowen smiled and nodded. " _We would be honored. Is there anything I can do to help you pack?"_

" _No, thank you. I only wish you both well, and I will see you again in Valinor, if nowhere else."_ Iowen winced at Tirnel's words; she wanted to think that no one else would die. She knew it was ridiculous, but she couldn't repress a hope that she and the others would sail, rather than being sent by blade or grief.

Before dawn, Tirnel crawled out of her hammock and bathed, wondering when her next bath would be. She dressed and armed herself, adding a few more weapons than usual. In addition to the ones on her back, she had one in her left boot and one strapped to her right bicep. Iowen mumbled in her sleep as Tirnel buckled Variele to her side. She looked over to her sleeping friend, mixed emotions sweeping through her mind. She dearly wished to wake Iowen and sob out her goodbye, but she did not. Iowen did not hear the door close as Tirnel left the flet, nor did she hear her friend's whispered farewell.

Legolas slung his bag over his shoulder and watched as the rest of the Fellowship scrambled to get ready. Merry and Pippin had slept late, and now were forced to forgo breakfast. They were whining about second breakfast as Tirnel entered the clearing, her own bag over her shoulder and her sword hanging at her side. She seemed a little sad as she stood beside him, but smiled thinly as Aragorn greeted her. She had a black scarf tied at her throat.

" _Alright?"_ Legolas murmured to her.

She nodded. A feeling of anticipation was present in both elves, and as Aragorn told them to follow her to the dock on the Celebrant, Tirnel felt her heart beating as fast as a hummingbird's wings.

At the water's edge, there were three small boats, large enough for three to a boat. Lady Galadriel stood there, with handmaidens behind her. Tirnel did not wish to see Iowen there, and she did not. Each handmaiden held a cloak and another thing, all different. Three held belts, two with sheathed knives. Another held a sheath. One held a great bow, like that of the Galadhrim. Another held a coil of bright silver rope and a small box. One held a glowing vial, but two held naught but the cloaks. Galadriel called them forth one by one, reaching Gimli just before Aragorn. They spoke for a moment, then the Lady unbraided one of her long golden tresses and cut three hairs that swayed gently in a breeze unfelt by the others. She moved on to Aragorn, handing him the sheath and a glowing green jewel, then touching the pendant at his throat. They spoke briefly, before Galadriel moved on.

She stopped before Tirnel, whispering " _This is your last chance to turn away."_

" _I stay with the quest,"_ Tirnel told her.

Lady Galadriel nodded gravely. " _Then I will need that ring."_

Tirnel removed the replica of Frodo's ring from her necklace and placed it in the Lady's palm.

Galadriel closed her eyes, and as she did, a rush of magic swept through the air. The ring glowed momentarily, then returned to glittering coldly in the dappled sunlight. Galadriel nodded, then stepped aside to speak at last with Frodo.

Aragorn had been speaking to Celeborn, but he nodded as the conversation drew to a close and turned to face the rest of the Fellowship. Galadriel stepped back to stand by her husband, watching as Merry, Pippin, and Boromir took one boat, Frodo, Sam, and Aragorn took another, and Legolas, Gimli and Tirnel took the third. Galadriel raised a hand in farewell as the boats drifted down the Celebrant, and Tirnel nodded in respect. Her eyes fell upon two elves on the river's edge: Helegon and Iowen. Both nodded to her, Iowen with tears on her face. Tirnel felt her own eyes fill as she nodded back, then faced the front again, realizing as she did that there was no going back.

They drifted down the Anduin, no one speaking until Gimli muttered "I have taken enormous wound from this parting," Tirnel turned from her place at the front of the boat as he continued. "For I have looked my last upon that which is fairest. Ah, henceforth, I shall call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me."

"What was her gift?" Legolas asked, pushing a drifting log out of the boat's path.

"I asked her for one hair from her golden head." Tirnel felt Legolas's shock mingle with her own as she remembered the story of Fëanor and how Galadriel had thrice defied the most powerful elf in history. "She gave me three."

Tirnel saw Legolas smile over Gimli's head, and grinned as well. "Gimli, my friend," she said, "I believe you have just been made an elf-friend." She laughed as the dwarf sputtered, and felt that she may have found solace from her grief in friends.

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Man, I actually might finish my reposting project tonight! If so, hooray! If not, there's always tomorrow.


	31. Fell Beasts and Strange Behaviour

Repost of chapter thirty-one!

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On the third day of travel, Tirnel noticed Boromir acting strangely. He would paddle ahead, bringing his boat right up alongside Aragorn's, then falling almost behind, biting his nails and glancing constantly at Frodo.

" _Hey,_ _Las_ ," she muttered. She spoke softly enough that Aragorn, slightly ahead of her boat, didn't catch what she said but Legolas's ears picked it up over the gentle eddying of the currents around them.

" _Yes, Tirnel?"_

" _I do not trust this man, the easterner. He is too uneasy, see?"_ She nodded discreetly as Boromir paddled right up beside Frodo, eyes searching.

" _We cannot accuse him of looking suspicious,"_ Legolas mused. Gimli was still oblivious to the fact that they were having a conversation. " _We will simply have to keep an eye on him."_ Tirnel snorted, but merely took up her paddle and jabbed at a stick that was floating in their way.

Nearly a week later, after drifting past increasingly similar sights and having increasingly tedious meals of lembas, Tirnel felt that she would rather have dove overboard and swum down the Anduin. Anything was better than listening to Gimli chatter on about the properties of _mithril_ when compared to steel. Legolas was shutting it out remarkably well; _**Must be all those years of royal training,**_ Tirnel thought. _**Make yourself look like you're interested but really be dreaming about killing orcs in Dol Guldur.**_ Some of her resentment must have seeped along their shared thoughts, for Legolas looked back concernedly. He had claimed the front after stopping the night before. She shook her head and stared off into the trees on the East side of the river, not really looking at anything.

It was sunset when she finally saw something. She gasped, catching the others' attention as she glimpsed orcs running from tree to tree. " _Yrch!"_ she hissed. Legolas whipped out his bow and bent it.

Aragorn drew his small bow and set an arrow to it, letting Frodo take over the boat's motion. Boromir drew his sword, though Tirnel smirked and thought _**That'll certainly do a lot of good.**_

A monstrous shape soared through the gathering dusk, its unearthly shriek frightening Gimli into standing quickly. Tirnel felt the boat lurch under her and the freezing water envelop her as the boat flipped. Legolas scrambled up to stand on the boat's bottom for a moment as he shot, hitting the beast. It screeched, falling, and its tail knocked the boat over again, filling and sinking as Legolas joined Gimli and his sister in the water. Tirnel felt panic coursing through her veins as she treaded water, fighting the current. The dwarf's helm was not in sight, nor the golden hair of Legolas, but there were no flailing limbs or disturbances in the river's current.

"Gimli!" she screamed. "Legolas!" Her brother's head broke the surface beside her, but Gimli was still gone.

A bolt of realization struck Legolas, and he yelled, "His armour! He'd sink!" Tirnel gasped, then flipped over and dived.

The water was freezing and murky, and she shuddered as she struck towards the bottom. A glint of silver shone up from the depths, and Tirnel dove towards it. It was indeed Gimli, and she grabbed him under the arms. He was kicking frantically, trying to fight the pull of his weight, but wasn't succeeding until Tirnel joined in. Together, they fought to swim to the surface, but it was not enough. Tirnel's head felt like it might explode as her vision clouded. Suddenly she felt someone grabbing _her,_ and she retained her grip on Gimli as they were pulled from the river.

Gimli came up sputtering and was seized by Boromir, who carried him to shore. Legolas pulled Tirnel out of the water and staggered up the riverbank with her in his arms before dropping to the ground just beyond the first trees, beside Gimli.

"Sam!" Aragorn called, leaping from his boat and running towards his bedraggled companions. "Tie the boats together with your rope!"

"Yes sir, Strider!"

As Sam hurried off, Aragorn knelt beside the two elves and dwarf. " _Are you alright?"_ he asked, rummaging in his pack for blankets.

Gimli coughed up some water and groaned. Tirnel nodded and pulled her knees to her chest, trying to keep warm. Aragorn wrapped her in a blanket and passed his own cloak to Gimli, who took it with a word of thanks. Turning to Tirnel, he said "Thank you, lassie, for saving my life. I don't think anyone else-"

"Nonsense," Tirnel said firmly. "All four hobbits would have thrown themselves in to save you, but they cannot swim. Boromir would have, but he had a boat to manage. Legolas would have, but he was shooting the beast. Aragorn would have, but he was also trying to hit it. I was the only choice."

Legolas pushed away the blanket that Boromir offered him and dove back into the river. "Is he mad?" Pippin yelped, starting after the elf, but Merry held him back. A moment later, Legolas resurfaced, dragging with him the boat that had been overturned. Boromir helped him empty it out and to bring it ashore, then handed the blanket to Legolas. The elf took it this time, thanking Boromir before returning to sit beside the small fire that Sam had built.

"What was that thing?" Merry asked, glancing around. Shrieks echoed across the river, making the hobbit shudder.

"Who can say?" Gimli grunted. "Praised be the hand and eyes of Legolas, and the bow of the Galadhrim."

"We have seen these creatures in the east," Boromir said suddenly. "The Nazgûl now use these as their steeds, rather than horses."

A stunned silence met these words, broken only by the fading howls of the orcs and Gimli's chattering teeth. "Well, that is lovely," Tirnel said sarcastically, drawing the blanket tighter about herself. Aragorn rolled his eyes.

"We stay here for the night," he told the others. They went back to the boats and collected their bags. The bags in Legolas, Gimli, and Tirnel's boat had been saved by the rope that bound them to the small benches, but the lembas was soaked. They had no dry clothes to change into, so they merely huddled close to the fire, keeping watch.

An hour into the dark night, Legolas spoke. Gimli had fallen asleep a few minutes before, so he spoke in Sindarin. " _Tirnel, that day you dueled with Boromir...what had happened?"_

He heard no answer but the noise of water from the river and the hoot of an owl. " _There was a patrol."_ Tirnel had pulled her knees up to her chest, staring into the flames. The black scarf was tied in her hair, but she took it off and wrung it between her hands as she spoke. " _It...it didn't...we lost seven elves, two to injuries, five from the fighting. One of the fallen was Nemirdir. I was...I was not fast enough. I killed the orc who murdered him, but not before he had taken deadly hurt. He died in my arms, after imparting his love to me a final time."_ She sniffed, wiping away the tears that ran down her face.

Legolas moved over and placed an arm about her shoulders. " _You will see him again."_

She laid her forehead on her knees. " _I know. But it was only two days ago, and the pain is worse than anything I have ever known."_

" _You need to master it,"_ Legolas murmured. " _If you become distracted, you will die."_

Tirnel laughed bitterly. " _My point exactly. Do I want to live on here, alone?"_

Legolas squeezed her in a hug. " _You are most definitely not alone. Look around you, Tirnel. We are here, if ever you need us."_

She smiled thinly. " _I will. But for now, I simply need to grieve. Allow me that."_ Legolas nodded, then kissed her forehead before laying back on his damp bedroll. As he fell asleep, he heard her crying softly.

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Aww, poor Tirnel! And wow, that river thing stressed me out just to _write!_ Good thing Tirnel got swimming lessons from-um sorry.


	32. Amon Hen

Repost of chapter thirty-two!

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When morning came, Merry and Pippin (who had been last on watch) roused the others and handed out lembas. Legolas groaned and stretched, hair still damp from the Anduin. Tirnel stretched too, yawning widely. Boromir grunted as Aragorn gave him a dig in the ribs, but Frodo started awake before Legolas had touched him. The hobbit's sudden movement woke Sam, who immediately pulled a frying pan from his pack to defend Frodo. Gimli snuffled in his sleep, waking only when both Legolas and Tirnel rolled him over.

They boarded their small boats and set off again, the swift river bearing them south and east as the Sun passed overhead. As She set, Aragorn called to them.

"We stay on the river through the night!" he yelled, ignoring Sam's noise of discomfort.

The pale dawn brought little news, but Tirnel would not have cared if it did. She was still damp and drained from grief, and she was more than ready to set foot on land again.

They passed through a canyon where the river was swift, sweeping them along quickly and forcing them to pay careful attention to their paths, lest they be crushed against the sides. Aragorn gasped as they exited this dangerous stretch, gazing up at two massive figures that flanked the river. He nudged Frodo, who glanced up. Tirnel gazed up at the statues, awestruck. _**They must have been built by elves,**_ she thought, _**for it would take many lifetimes of mortal men to create these. They must also be bound by powerful magic, to prevent them from weathering.**_

Boromir, she noticed, cast a sour look up at the statues as they passed, and remained surly until they were past them.

About an hour after passing the Argonath, as Aragorn had called the statues, he called for them to turn aside. They were coming to the end of a lake, and Tirnel could hear the thunderous noise of a waterfall nearby. She and Legolas paddled their boat to the shore and pulled it up on the bank. Frodo leapt off his boat as soon as Aragorn had grounded it, clutching his pack to his chest.

Legolas gave the boat a final tug and walked to Aragorn's side. Tirnel hauled Gimli out of the boat, handing him his tinderbox as he walked up the shore, and she caught a glimpse of Boromir shuddering, as if to ward off a chill.

Once Gimli had gotten a small fire started, Tirnel began off-loading supplies onto the pebbly beach, handing them to Aragorn.

"We cross the lake at nightfall," Aragorn called. He was piling the packs near the ruins of a statue, and took one from Tirnel's arms as he spoke. "Hide the boats, and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north."

"Oh, yes?" Gimli asked. Aragorn glanced over to the dwarf, who was glowering through his thick beard. "Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil: An impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks. And after that, it gets even better!" Pippin looked up, alarmed. "Festering, stinking marshland as far as the eye can see!"

Legolas glared at Gimli, but Aragorn answered calmly. "That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, master dwarf."

"Recover my—?" Gimli blustered. Legolas turned and strode over to Aragorn, who had walked further down the bank.

"We should leave now," Legolas warned.

"No," Aragorn replied. "Orcs patrol the Eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness."

"It is not the Eastern shore that worries me." Legolas's reply made Tirnel prick her ears to their conversation as she gathered wood. "A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near. I can feel it."

Merry returned with an armload of wood before Aragorn could respond. The hobbit set down his wood, glancing around the clearing, ignoring Gimli's annoyed mutters, and asked, "Where's Frodo?"

Everyone looked around as well. Sam jerked up from where he had been relaxing, and Tirnel's gaze snapped over to where Boromir had been. The man was gone, his shield sitting propped against the tree.

Merry and Pippin yelled Frodo's name, running off into the trees. "No!" Aragorn called after them. "Come back!" They took no heed, vanishing through the brush. "Follow them, Tirnel!" Aragorn yelled, drawing his sword.

Tirnel sprinted after the hobbits, hearing distantly shrieks that froze her blood. Orcs were around, and close by the sound of it. A branch caught at the scarf about her throat, and she stopped for a moment to undo it, cursing fluently all the while. "Merry!" she yelled. "Pippin!" She heard nothing now but the frantic pounding of blood in her ears, but she ran towards where she had last seen them.

A mop of curly dark hair flashed by her, and she saw Frodo running for the boats. She was tempted to run after him, but she heard Merry and Pippin's voices: "Hey! Hey you! Over here!"

She cursed under her breath as she neared a clearing. The snarls of orcs became loud in her ears as she burst into the clearing. Merry and Pippin were surrounded by orcs, both throwing rocks. She drew a blue and glowing Variele, sprinting over a small bridge moments after the hobbits, and began to fight. The first she slew seemed to fall before her blade touched it. The next few were just as easy. She heard sounds of battle behind her, and, chancing a glance, she saw Boromir behind her. He had just thrown the axe that had been about to cleave Pippin in half into an orc's head, and was now fighting with his long sword.

Merry and Pippin drew their little swords and fought as well, Merry ducking as Boromir threw his dagger. "There's too many of them!" Tirnel yelled furiously. " _Nathad! Legolas! Aragorn, NATHAD!"_ The orcs shied away from her yells, despising the Sindarin as much as she despised their speech.

Boromir began to blow his horn, gesturing for Merry and Pippin to run. Tirnel killed another two orcs that would have butchered Boromir before following. Unfortunately, the horn seemed to summon enemies rather than allies. "Run!" Boromir bellowed, pausing in his horn-blowing to slaughter an orc. Pippin glanced back, yelping as he saw how many orcs had appeared.

Tirnel, busy killing orcs on Boromir's left, saw one of the biggest orcs yet crest the hill before her, armed with arrows and a cruel bow. "Boromir!" she called, trying to get his attention onto the new threat.

Before he could realize why she had called his name, a black arrow landed in his chest, near his left shoulder. The impact made him stumble, and Tirnel gasped as she saw him lose his footing and fall to one knee. The man heaved himself up with a yell of exertion, sword bringing down another orc before he had stood again.

Tirnel, rallied by this show of miraculous strength, fought with renewed vigor, until the second arrow hit. It slammed into his gut, bringing him once more to his knees. The hobbits froze, the rocks that they had been throwing falling from their hands. Tirnel tried to bring down the orcs that were still approaching, with luck that was decreasing by the second.

A yell from behind her made her aware that Boromir had rallied again, killing another three orcs before the third arrow found its mark. The third orc had cloven his horn, and its halves rattled as he fell again to his knees.

Merry grabbed his little sword and screamed in defiance, Pippin following suit, but the orcs had already won. Two of them grabbed the hobbits, the little swords falling into the leaves, as another two caught hold of Tirnel. She yelled insults at them, fighting to break free, but they ripped her sheath from her belt and cast down Variele, spitting on it for good measure. The redwood-handled knives were torn from her back as her arms were bound. Merry and Pippin were bound as well, but all Tirnel could see was Boromir, kneeling before the archer, a final arrow aimed at his head.

* * *

Oh no! Tirnel has been captured, along with the little hobbits! I can't tell you if they'll all make it away from the orcs safely...we'll have to read and see. We have now gotten to where I will begin chopping it up into different points of view. Poor Boroming-oop **Boromir why do I keep doing that** will be okay, though we do know that he won't. Even though he's an ass, his death still makes me cry. Like, buckets.

Sindarin translation:

Nathad: help

Also, we have reached 50,000 words! I am so happy. Thank you all for sticking with me, though we're barely started! Love you all.


	33. The Breaking of the Fellowship

Repost of chapter thirty-three!

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Aragorn sprinted into the clearing, tackling the orc before scrambling back to his feet and engaging it in battle. They clashed swords, Aragorn pushing the Uruk's sword back to its face. It snarled, heaving Aragorn away. He landed against a tree, where the Uruk-hai pinned him with a shield. Aragorn struggled to free his neck as the Uruk charged, sword ready, and managed to squirm free just before the sword hit the tree's bark. Hitting the orc in the stomach as he went, he tried to run past it. But the Uruk-hai had caught on: it stuck out one arm, catching Aragorn in the middle and flipping him over. Aragorn rolled aside before the orc slashed at his head. Kicking it in the stomach, he pulled the knife from the sheath on his thigh and stabbed the Uruk's leg. It roared in pain, then brought its fist down on Aragorn's arm, still clutching the hilt of the knife.

Aragorn, dazed by pain, tried to roll away, but the orc heaved him up. Smashing its head into the man's, it hit him hard in the ribs and sent him flying backwards. Roaring again in pain, it wrenched the knife out of its leg, then approached Aragorn. The man looked up warily at the Uruk-hai, blood streaming down his face. It growled, then threw the knife. Aragorn deflected it with his sword, then fought again as the orc picked up its sword. Slashing wildly, he managed to cut off the Uruk's right arm, then stab it in the gut. The Uruk-hai, recognising defeat, pulled the sword in further with its remaining arm, taunting Aragorn. Repulsed, he withdrew his sword and beheaded the orc.

He raised his head, panting, and saw Boromir on the other side of the clearing. His back was to a tree, as if he were resting, but as Aragorn hurried to his side, he saw that the Gondorian was punctured by three black-feathered arrows. Aragorn crouched swiftly by the man's side.

"They took the little ones, and her as well," Boromir choked. He was pale, and his body shuddered as he spoke.

"Lay still," Aragorn whispered. He did not know how much damage the arrows had done, though it looked serious.

"Frodo." The man clutched Aragorn's shoulder, gripping it hard, and trying to sit up. "Where is Frodo?"

"I let Frodo go," Aragorn told him.

Boromir released him and lay back once more. "Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him."

Aragorn's heart sank. "The Ring is beyond our reach now," he told Boromir quietly, trying to stop him from trembling.

Boromir clutched Aragorn's shoulder again. "Forgive me; I did not see." He shuddered. "I have failed you all."

"No, Boromir," Aragorn said, trying to ease the man back onto the roots of the tree. "You fought bravely. You have kept your honor." He reached for one of the arrows, intending to rip it out quickly, so as to decrease Boromir's suffering.

"Leave it." The wounded man's voice had become sharp. "It is over. The world of men will fall, and all will come to darkness, and my city to ruin."

Aragorn gripped Boromir's arm, eyes burning with tears. "I do not know what strength is in my blood," he said, "but I swear to you, I will not let the White City fall." He squeezed the man's arm. "Nor our people fail."

"Our people." Aragorn nodded as Boromir said it. "Our people." He reached for the hilt of his sword, lying just out of reach. Aragorn placed the hilt in his hand and guided Boromir's hand to his chest. Legolas entered the clearing, a little dirt on his face, but otherwise unscathed, eyes searching for enemies and friends, and saw Aragorn kneeling before Boromir. "I would have followed you, my brother," Boromir whispered, eyes clouding. "My captain. My king."

His breathing slowed and stopped, leaving Boromir, eldest son of the Steward of Gondor, lying dead under a tree on Amon Hen. Aragorn placed a hand on his own forehead, brought his knuckles to his lips and kissed them, then placed a hand behind Boromir's head. "Be at peace, son of Gondor," he whispered, then kissed the dead man's brow. Gimli appeared behind Legolas, axe still raised, but he lowered it once he saw the elf staring at the two men, surrounded by dead orcs. "They will look for his coming on the White Tower," Aragorn muttered, standing, "but he will not return." He lifted his face to the treetops, a tear tracking through the grime and blood there.

Legolas reached down quickly, his eyes catching on something shining in the leaves. It was an Elvish sword, still faintly blue, its sheath of black leather not far away. Silver knives with redwood handles peeked out from under the roots of a tree, also glowing. Tirnel would not have let her weapons go voluntarily; she must have been taken. His heart sank as he thought of the orcs, of the stories that had been told of Celebrian, Lord Elrond's wife. He knew what the orcs were capable of, and he knew from experience how helpless one could be if they were bound in orc-fashion. He also saw, not far away, a black scarf caught in the branches of a thorny bush.

Gimli took one of the knives from its sheath and held it, face grim. Tirnel had carried more weapons than just Variele and the twin knives, but it would be difficult to use them if she were unconscious...or worse.

Aragorn joined the other two, holding Boromir's vambraces and the two halves of his horn. " _Rhaich."_ Legolas glanced over at the curse. The man was staring at Tirnel's weapons as though they had run away from their owner. "I would have liked to have kept her safe, if I cannot keep Frodo from harm," he muttered. Gimli seemed about to ask what they were to do with Boromir's body, but Aragorn answered. "We must give him to the Anduin," he said, voice hard. Gimli nodded and strode down to the water's edge and hauled one of the boats ashore.

The three of them placed Boromir in the boat, the elf-cloak folded under his head, his sword on his chest and those of his enemies around his feet. They placed his broken horn on his chest, nestling the shield beside the man's legs. Aragorn buckled the engraved leather vambraces on his own forearms as the boat drifted away, down the river and towards the falls.

Legolas took a moment to attach Variele's sheath to his side and sheathe the sword, then reached for the third boat. "Hurry. Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore." Aragorn did not rise from his seat on a rock, but glanced over to the eastern banks. The small boat was pulled up, and two small figures could be seen, retreating through the trees. "You mean not to follow them?" Legolas asked.

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands," Aragorn replied quietly.

"Then it has all been in vain," Gimli growled. "The Fellowship has failed."

Aragorn stood and placed a hand on Legolas's and Gimli's shoulders. "Not if we hold true to each other," he said. Turning to Legolas, he continued, "We will not abandon them to torment and death. Not while we have strength left." Hope flared in Legolas as Aragorn turned, saying as he did, "Leave all that can be spared behind: we travel light. Let us hunt some orc."

Gimli looked up to Legolas, grinning maniacally. Legolas allowed himself a fierce grin as well as the dwarf yelled, "Yes!" and charged after Aragorn. Legolas thought briefly, _**We are coming for you, Tirnel,**_ before sprinting up the bank behind the others.

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Ahhh! So scary! So for those who don't know, Celebrian was raped by the orcs and tortured, then was forced to leave Middle-earth for Valinor. Well then. I can't tell you much, but I will tell you this: Tirnel's and Celebrian's fates are not the same. No worries. Love you all, sorry for the emotional turmoil!

Sindarin translation

 _Rhaich:_ curses, oh shit, etc.


	34. End Note

To all my faithful readers and reviewers: Thank you! This book has ended, but the next chapter in this saga can be found on my profile: _Secret Daughter; Book Two._ Love you all, and thanks again for sticking with me till the end!

I have completed the reposts of all the chapters, editing here and there, and now it's done, which means I can focus on the sequel. Remember, I am open to one-shot requests. PM me or pop it into a review if you're not a member of fanfiction dot net.

Also, guys, reviews motivate me. They let me know that you're interested. They let me know if I should continue posting. If you're a lurker, or uncomfortable with having other people see what you want to say, PM me!

I used to be a lurker too! Now I'm begging you to come out of the shadows. I can see from the traffic stats that I have people seeing this all over the world! Here's this month's list: USA, UK, Canada, Germany, France, Malta, Spain, Hungary, Australia, Ireland, Singapore, Brazil, China, Sweden, India, New Zealand, Bulgaria, Portugal, Italy, Malaysia, Israel, Norway, somewhere called the Czech Revar, Ukraine, Greece, The Philippines, Costa Rica, The Netherlands, and Poland! HOLY CRAP YOU GUYS THAT'S A LOT OF PLACES THAT I'LL NEVER BE. THE WORLD IS HUGE. Give me a shoutout if I missed your country, and let's see some national pride! But not the USA. We suck.

Love you all, all over the world!


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